Triple Jeopardy
by Red Hardy
Summary: When Frank is faced with the impossible choice of saving the lives of his family or telling the truth in a court of law, he must decide when the cost of honesty becomes too high a price to pay. Takes place approximately two months after Happy Birthday.
1. Chapter 1

And the saga continues… ;-) This story takes place about two months after _Happy Birthday_. Hope you enjoy.

(Psst… If you're just joining us for the first time, I write in a series; an AU series. The list of stories and order they were written in are on my profile page, although it's not imperative that you read them all before reading this one. :-) )

Disclaimer: Still don't own them, still wish I did.

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 1**

Joe Hardy pulled his car into the driveway of his parents' home. Sitting in the passenger seat, his fiancée Vanessa Bender pulled down the sun visor and did a final "check" of her appearance in the small mirror. She smoothed down a few runaway strands of her ash blond hair and, as had become a habit, checked the look reflected in her blue-gray eyes. The haunted, fearful look that had been so apparent right after she had been raped had diminished considerably. She was happy to note that tonight she could barely see it at all.

Leaning across the seat, Joe kissed her on the cheek. "You don't need to look, you know. You're always beautiful," he smiled at her.

She returned the smile. "And you're biased. But thank you just the same."

It seemed the 23-year-old couple had been through one frightening ordeal after another in the past eight months. The chain of events started when Vanessa had been raped by a man who had been nursing a grudge against Joe for over ten years. Joe had subsequently been arrested and charged with murdering the man. The stress of the ensuing trial, at which he was found innocent, resulted in Joe remembering a horrifying childhood trauma that he had repressed for seventeen years. The entire incident also inflicted a deep wound in Joe's relationship with his older brother Frank that had only recently healed.

Soon after, Vanessa had been kidnapped in an attempt to blackmail Frank's wife, Callie, resulting in underlying friction in Joe and Callie's once close friendship for months afterward. Shortly on the heels of this, Joe had been abducted from O'Hare Airport after stumbling onto a planned assassination of a U.S. Senator. In the twenty-four hour period it took for Frank and his father to find Joe, he'd been beaten and tortured almost continually by his abductors before finally being rescued. The Hardys had initially been told to prepare for the worst, but Joe had enough fight left to make an unexpected recovery, although he had physical scars he would carry for the rest of his life as a reminder.

When Joe recovered enough to return to work almost two months later, a madwoman intent on inducing severe, permanent brain damage stalked Frank and almost succeeded in her plan. During that time, the brothers were able to heal the few tears in their relationship that remained and were now closer than ever.

While it seemed, initially at least, that this sequence of events would tear the Hardy family apart, in the end it brought them closer together than ever. Both Vanessa and Joe had been seeing a therapist and their lives were returning to normal.

Tonight, the couple was visiting Joe's parents for what had become a weekly ritual of dinner and enjoying time spent together. Laura Hardy, Joe's petite blonde-haired, blue-eyed mother had become slightly unnerved at the events of the past year, and she now insisted on her family coming together at least once a week for dinner, an outing or simply a night of reminiscing.

Getting out of the car, Joe took Vanessa's hand in his, happily stealing another kiss as they walked towards the house.

Vanessa noted the absence of Frank's car. "Looks like we beat Frank and Callie for once."

Joe's brother and his petite, blonde wife were notoriously punctual, something Joe took great joy in teasing them about.

"Hey, more appetizers for me!" Joe smiled, his mouth watering at the thought of his mother's culinary skills. He pulled the screen door open and held it for Vanessa as they entered the house. "Mom! Dad! We're here!" he called out fully expecting a response from the kitchen or the den. When they were met with silence, Joe and Vanessa looked at each other puzzled.

"Maybe they're out back," Vanessa suggested.

Joe shrugged. "Must be."

Following the hall back to the kitchen, Joe pushed open the swinging door, instinctively keeping Vanessa slightly behind him and looked around the empty kitchen. "Mom?"

Clutching Vanessa's hand tightly, he moved towards the back door. Looking out onto the deck, he let his gaze move slowly and methodically across the yard, concern now marring his handsome features. World-renowned private investigator Fenton Hardy, an older version of Frank, and his wife Laura were nowhere to be seen. Feeling a tug on his arm, Joe turned back to Vanessa who was looking around the kitchen from her spot beside Joe.

"The stove is still on and so is the oven," she pointed out.

As if to confirm her observation, a sudden hiss sounded as whatever was in the pot on the stove boiled over and splattered onto the flame beneath it. Joe walked over to the stove and turned off two of the burners and the oven. He leaned over slightly, looking first in the pot that had boiled over, which contained gravy and then in large pot filled with boiling potatoes. Opening the oven, the scent of a pot roast and seasoned vegetables wafted out at them.

"Nothing's burning, so if they left for some reason it wasn't very long ago," Joe noted. "Let's check the rest of the house."

As Joe held tightly to Vanessa's hand, keeping her close to him, they systematically searched every room in the house and the attached offices of Hardy and Sons Investigations, even venturing out into the garage. As they stepped out of the garage into the driveway the mildly uneasy feeling Joe had earlier started to grow. While he debated what to do next, Joe was relieved to see his older brother's car pull into the driveway behind his.

"Hey, guys." Frank waved a greeting as he got out of the car and walked around to open the door for his wife. Joe quickly approached his brother, and Frank could see immediately that Joe was troubled about something.

"What's wrong?" He didn't miss the way Vanessa held onto Joe's hand and practically glued herself to his side. Frank's radar went off immediately. He knew Vanessa had made amazing progress in coming to terms with the rape and no longer had the constant need to feel physically "attached" to Joe… unless she felt threatened or scared.

"Mom and Dad are gone." Joe anxiously slipped an arm around Vanessa and pulled her even closer to him.

"Gone?" Frank repeated in surprise. "What do you mean gone?"

"I mean GONE!" Joe said again, getting agitated. "As in gone, not here, nowhere to be found."

"Let's go inside and you can explain everything." Putting a hand on Joe's shoulder, Frank turned his younger brother towards the house, following Joe and Vanessa while exchanging a frown with Callie.

Once inside Joe and Vanessa headed straight for the kitchen. Pushing the door open, Joe hoped he'd see his parents standing there putting the finishing touches on dinner, resulting in a good laugh for all at his thinking they'd disappeared. His heart sank when the room was still empty.

"See?" Joe waved his hand around the room. "Gone."

"You checked the house?" Frank asked as he scanned the room, knowing Joe had already done so.

"The house, the office, the garage," Joe confirmed looking at his older brother nervously. "They're not here, Frank."

"The front and back doors, and the windows were open, and the food was still cooking when we got here," Vanessa added. "Just no sign of your parents."

Frank moved towards the stove. "Was anything burning?"

"No."

He turned back to the other three, immediately assessing the situation and taking charge. "Cal, you and Vanessa go talk to the neighbors. See if Mom and Dad went over there for any reason. Both sides and across the street."

"Sure," Callie nodded.

"Joe and I will re-check the house, office and yard," Frank told them and then focused on his brother. "Did you check the attic and basement?"

"Not yet," Joe admitted. "I was just about to when you got here."

"Okay then, let's go." Frank steered his brother towards the door to the basement.

Twenty minutes later, the foursome reconvened in the kitchen, none of them wanting to say it out loud – Fenton and Laura Hardy had disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2

I think I replied to everyone personally (and if I missed anyone I'm so sorry! :o ), but thank you again for the reviews. :-)

Thanks to everyone who is reading.

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 2**

A strained silence hung in the air as Joe, Vanessa and Callie all looked at Frank expectantly.

"Well, they're obviously not here. I want to call Con even though we can't file a report for twenty hours," Frank announced.

Vanessa frowned. "Twenty-four hours? Why so long?"

"Because there's no sign of foul play," Joe explained disgustedly as he watched Frank make the call. The four young people then went outside to wait.

Ten minutes later, a police car pulled up in front of the house. Detective Con Riley, a man with light brown hair and blue eyes, got out and approached the group. Detective Riley was a long time member of the Bayport Police Department and often worked with the Hardys in the past. He considered Frank, Joe and their father good friends.

Knowing his brother was on edge, Frank walked down the driveway, meeting Con halfway. Joe could see Frank in whispered conversation with the detective as Con nodded occasionally. Approaching Joe and the girls, Con smiled at Joe.

"You and Vanessa were the first to arrive?" he asked Joe as he nodded a greeting at Vanessa.

"Yes," Joe confirmed. "The front door was open, the stove and the oven were on, no sign of forced entry, but Mom and Dad were gone."

"No sign of foul play? No ransom demands? Notes? Phone calls?" Con asked taking notes.

"No," the brothers chorused.

Flipping his notebook shut, Con looked at them. "I'm sure you two have already gone over the place with a fine-toothed comb," he gestured toward the house, "but why don't we do it again."

"If you start in the kitchen Vanessa and I can clean it up while you're searching the rest of the house," Callie offered.

"Sounds good to me," Joe mumbled. "I've lost my appetite."

As Frank and Joe led Con through the house, office and yard, Callie and Vanessa began putting the food away, loading the dishwasher and generally cleaning up in the kitchen.

"Callie?"

"Yes?" Callie turned to Vanessa.

"What do you think happened to them?" Vanessa's eyes were clouded with worry.

"I don't know, Van, but since there's no sign of foul play, we can hope that wherever they are, they haven't been hurt."

Nodding, Vanessa smiled half-heartedly. "I guess so."

As she let the water drain out of the sink, Callie watched Vanessa carefully, sensing there was something more going on than concern for Fenton and Laura Hardy. "Van? Is there something else you're worried about?" Callie asked trying to draw her out.

Vanessa shrugged. "It's just…Joe and his dad have gotten so close recently. Joe's finally been able to accept what happened when he was a kid. Therapy has been helpful and Frank tries, too, but a lot of times his dad is the only one who really understands what he's going through."

Callie looked at Vanessa, touched. It occurred to her that while both Joe and Vanessa had been through horrible psychological traumas, they were always more concerned about each other than they were about themselves. _'Both so broken in their own ways, but for each other – cement.'_

"Joe is finally learning how to deal with it and most of that is due to Mr. Hardy. Joe's been talking to him a lot lately. Their relationship has grown so much." Vanessa smiled. "You know as bad as this year has been for us, its brought Joe and his dad so much closer together."

'_Always looking for the silver lining,'_ Callie thought watching Vanessa dry the last pot and put it away.

"I just hope they're okay, you know?" Vanessa continued. "Joe really needs them. Especially with the trials coming up," she said referring to the trials of the two men who had abducted Joe from Chicago's O'Hare Airport and nearly killed him.

Callie looked up at her tall, long-legged friend. "Try not to worry, Van. Remember, everything Frank and Joe know, they learned from their father."

…

Back in the living room, Frank, Joe and Con had just concluded their search for clues finding nothing out of the ordinary.

"Well," Con began scratching his head, "the law says if there's no sign of foul play, I can't do anything. I can't file a missing persons report until you've had no contact with them for twenty-four hours. I'm sorry but my hands are tied."

"Well mine aren't!" Joe responded angrily, despite knowing Con was right.

"Come on, I'll walk you out," Frank told Con.

As they walked, Frank promised to keep Con updated and call immediately if they found anything to indicate Laura and Fenton had been taken against their will.

"For what it's worth, I don't think they left voluntarily any more than you do," Con said.

"Thanks." Frank smiled gratefully. "I'll call you if anything turns up before tomorrow night." After bidding Con goodbye, Frank returned to the living room to find Vanessa and Callie sitting with Joe.

Joe looked at his brother, determination in his eyes. "We're not waiting!"

In the short time Frank had been outside, Joe's mind was playing an endless loop of how much closer he and his parents had become this year, particularly he and his father. While Frank had scoured the country looking for evidence to clear Joe when he'd been on trial for murdering Vanessa's rapist, Fenton had been by Joe's side every day offering his son support and comfort. In recent months Joe had turned to his father repeatedly, needing to talk about the horrors he had been forced to watch as a small child, knowing Fenton was the only one who could truly understand his anguish.

While Frank and Fenton had a unique bond Joe had sometimes been a little envious of, it suddenly dawned on Joe that he and his father shared something just as special; different maybe, but no less special.

Glancing at Vanessa, Joe was reminded how his mother had helped Vanessa in her ongoing recovery. He recalled Vanessa telling him how Laura had offered herself up as a hostage in place of Vanessa, and how she had been there for Vanessa when Joe was missing. She had pushed aside her own fears for her son to help Vanessa cope. And when Joe had returned home from Chicago with strict orders of "bed rest" for several weeks, Laura had come to their apartment every day to visit and help out.

As Joe looked at his brother, he realized that despite how close he and Frank were he knew he needed his parents more now than ever had in his life.

"Of course we're not waiting." Frank's reply snapped Joe out of his reverie. "Let's get started."

Using both the computer and paper files, the foursome began to search, looking for anything that could help. Recent parolees, prison escapees and anyone who had threatened the Hardys in the past were to be scrutinized.

Several hours later Frank yawned and checked his watch surprised to see it was close to midnight. Glancing around the multitude of files they still had to go, he realized they were going to be there all night.

Getting up, he stretched and went to stand behind Callie. Squeezing her shoulders, he leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Why don't you and Vanessa go home and get some sleep?" he suggested. "Joe and I are going to be here all night."

"Are you sure?" Callie questioned him. "We'd like to do anything we can to help out."

"I know, but you two have jobs to go to in the morning."

Shrugging her shoulders, Callie stood up and looked at Vanessa, who glanced at Joe, hesitating. Watching, the exchange Frank noticed she seemed to be extremely uncomfortable with his suggestion.

"I…I'd rather stay here," Vanessa finally announced, "in case Joe needs me."

Knowing the real reason Vanessa wanted to stay, Joe did not try to talk her out of it. Nine months after being raped, Vanessa had made remarkable strides in her daily life, but she was still afraid of being alone at night, something Joe knew would take a long time for her to get over.

"Why don't you sleep in my old room?" Joe suggested.

Again, Vanessa hesitated before replying. "That's okay. I can sleep on the couch in your office."

She looked at the other three feeling utterly ridiculous, but no less afraid. Even though Frank and Joe would be in the office it was technically separated from the rest of the house, so she would still be alone – something that was too frightening for Vanessa to even consider.

As Callie watched the puzzled looks passing between Frank and Joe, it suddenly dawned on her why Vanessa did not want to sleep in Joe's room. "Actually Frank, I think I'd rather stay here too. Just in case you need me. Would it be all right if I stayed in your old room?"

Seeing Vanessa visibly relax, Joe finally understood her initial hesitation. Catching Callie's eye, Joe mouthed a silent _"Thank you",_ which she acknowledged with the slightest nod.

After kissing the girls goodnight and making sure the house was locked up and the alarm turned on, the boys returned to the office and resumed their search. Seven hours later, as morning dawned and the sun rose on another beautiful fall day in Bayport, Frank closed the last file dejectedly. Looking at Joe, they silently faced that fact that they had absolutely no clue what had happened to their parents.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks MissMe113, josie (sorry for the oversight with chapter 1!), franknjoe, Helen, No1butjoe and MissFenway for the reviews. I'm getting a good laugh at everyone who said it was Fenton and Laura's 'turn'. :p

Thanks to all who are reading. :-)

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 3**

As Frank and Joe contemplated their next move, the smell of coffee wafted into the office.

"I think the girls are up," Frank stated the obvious. "Maybe we'll think better on a full stomach."

The two left the office and entered the house, walking back to the kitchen where they found Callie and Vanessa preparing a delicious breakfast.

Joe grinned as he looked at Vanessa, who was wearing one of his old college football jerseys, and let out a wolf whistle as he approached his fiancée.

"That jersey looks a whole lot better on you than it ever did on me!" He scooped Vanessa up in his arms and indulged in a lengthy kiss before pulling away. "Morning, Babe."

Shaking his head at the two, Frank stood next to Callie who was clad in one of his old sweatshirts. Eyeing her appreciatively, Frank leaned in for a kiss almost lifting his petite wife off the floor.

"Did you find anything?" Callie asked once Frank had released her.

"No, not yet." Frank glanced at his brother and rolled his eyes. Joe was still enthusiastically entwined with his fiancée and completely oblivious to Frank and Callie's presence.

Callie laughed and handed Frank a mug of coffee. They sat down at the table where platters of scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes and toast awaited them.

"At least I get first dibs on the food," Frank cracked, beginning to fill his plate.

Moments later they were joined by a smiling Joe and slightly flushed Vanessa. Frank just shook his head and passed his brother the platter of bacon.

As they ate, Frank and Joe filled the girls in on what they had found, or more precisely what they _hadn't_ found, during the course of the night, concluding just as Frank's cell phone rang.

Listening to his brother's end of the conversation, Joe figured it was Federal Prosecutor James Vance, who was the lead attorney on a case in which he and Frank were currently testifying.

The previous year, at the request of the Federal government, Frank and Joe had gone deep undercover and infiltrated a terrorist organization. Authorities were sure someone high up in the military had been leaking information to the terrorist group. Once inside the organization, the brothers were virtually cut off from outside help and had no one to rely on but each other. They'd had a few close calls and more than one harrowing experience but, in the end, they were able to uncover the leak and bring down the U.S. branch of the organization.

While Joe had already testified, Frank, having insinuated himself as a personal assistant to the leader of the organization, Johann Jarrell, was being touted as the "star witness" and was scheduled to testify last. While Frank felt he was more than prepared for the upcoming day in court, having spent hours being "prepped" by Vance and his assistants, they wanted to review his testimony one more time to be sure they hadn't missed anything. Frank agreed to stop by their offices later that morning and hung up the phone.

Lost in thought, Frank was unaware of the conversation going on around him until Joe lobbed a piece of bacon in his direction. Startled as the wayward piece of food landed in his coffee mug with an audible 'plop', Frank looked up and glared at his brother.

"You could just say 'Excuse me', you know!" He fished the bacon out of his coffee.

"I did," Joe retorted. "Several times. You were apparently on another planet and couldn't hear me."

"Oh, sorry."

"No problem, but I heard the wheels turning and saw the smoke coming out of your ears…" Joe trailed off arching an eyebrow.

"I was just wondering if Mom and Dad's disappearance has anything to do with the trial," Frank mused aloud.

"Anything's possible." Joe shrugged, snagging another piece of bacon and popping it into his mouth.

Frank watched as Joe filled his plate for the third time. "You know it's a wonder Mom and Dad didn't go bankrupt feeding you."

"I'm a growing boy and I didn't eat any dinner last night," Joe said before returning to Frank's theory. "If Jarrell and his buddies wanted to grab Mom and Dad to prevent us from testifying, they're a little late. I'm already done. If they wanted to stop us, wouldn't they have grabbed 'em _before_ I testified?" he asked digging into his scrambled eggs.

"I guess so." Frank sighed as he got up to rinse out his mug and pour himself a fresh cup of coffee. Staring out the window into the yard, Frank sipped the hot beverage. Despite the fact that everything Joe said made perfect sense, Frank couldn't ignore the niggling feeling that he was onto something.


	4. Chapter 4

As always, thank you so much for the reviews. :-)

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 4**

A short time later Frank, Callie, Joe and Vanessa returned to their respective homes. The girls changed clothes and headed off to work, Joe took a short nap after which he began to search his personal files and Frank left for his appointment with James Vance.

Seated across the table from the dark, curly haired man with deep green eyes, Frank debated whether or not to tell him about his parents' disappearance. As the tall, well-built man eyed him, Frank put on the mask of neutrality he wore like a second skin, making sure his true feelings were known only if and when he wanted them to be. Not wanting to do or say anything that could put his parents in further jeopardy, Frank chose to keep the information to himself for the time being.

"Thanks for coming in this morning, Frank," Vance said. "Joe's testimony nailed the mid-level of the organization, but yours," he stopped and smiled in anticipation, "yours will bring down Jarrell himself. We've been after him for years and never even got close. We've never had an opportunity like this before and I don't want anything to go wrong."

"I understand," Frank said agreeably.

"Shall we get started then?"

For the next three hours, Frank and Vance reviewed every detail of Frank's testimony. The prosecutor went over every question he would pose and every piece of evidence he would present. He then reviewed the most likely questions Frank would be asked by the defense team. When Vance was satisfied Frank's testimony would be flawless, the two parted.

During the drive home, Frank marveled once again, at how Jarrell and his cronies had been able to post the exorbitant amount of cash bail that had been set for them. At the time he feared that he and Joe or their family would quickly become targets of the terrorists, but that had not come to pass. Jarrell and his men had melted into the background to await trial, without so much as a peep being heard from them again.

'_Until now?'_ Frank thought as he turned into his driveway.

Entering the house, Frank went straight to the kitchen and put on a strong pot of coffee as the lack of sleep began to catch up with him. Yawning, he inhaled the scent of the slowly brewing coffee when he noticed the flashing red light on the answering machine. Hoping it was Joe with some good news, he pressed the 'Play' button. Prepared to hear his brother's voice, Frank found he was in for a shock.

_"Frank, it's Mom."_ Frank's head slowly turned towards the machine as his mother's voice continued. _"Your father and I are fine at the moment. Ransom demands will be left in an envelope which Joe is to pick up tonight – alone."_ Frank's eyes grew wide at the request. _"He will bring the envelope back to you as you are the only one who can fulfill_ _the demands. Joe is to leave at eight o'clock tonight and head west out of Bayport. At eight-o-five, he will be called with instructions directing him to the exact location of the ransom demands. Joe must go alone. If he doesn't, I will be killed."_

The monotone in his mother's voice and lack of any kind of personal message led Frank to believe Laura had been told exactly what to say in the message. Frank assumed had she deviated at all from what she'd been instructed to say, one or both of his parents would have been injured – or killed. Pouring himself a cup of coffee, Frank leaned against the counter deciding how best to tell Joe of this latest development.

oooOOOooo

As Laura Hardy read from the typed paper in front of her, she glanced at her husband worriedly. Seated with his hands bound and a gun pressed to his temple, Fenton Hardy appeared totally calm. After being instructed to call Frank's home and leave the carefully worded message, Laura had been told if she altered even one word of the prepared message in an effort to leave some kind of clue, her husband would be shot immediately.

Completing the message, she handed the phone back to one of the heavily armed men standing on either side of her. She and Fenton were then led back to the damp, basement cell where they'd been held since being abducted the previous evening. Fenton's hands were untied and the couple was left in silence.

"I couldn't take the chance," Laura finally said. "I thought of leaving some kind of clue for Frank but…" she shrugged apologetically.

Fenton pulled his wife close to him and held her. As she leaned against his chest, he kissed the top of her head. "Don't worry about it. They'll figure out what's going on."

"I don't like them insisting Joe go alone to pick up the ransom demands. Why can't both boys go? Especially if Frank is the only one who can meet their demands?"

Fenton smiled at his wife's reference to their sons as 'boys'. He would periodically remind her they were grown men now, to which she would always reply, _"They'll always be my boys."_

"I'm not crazy about Joe going alone either. But I have a feeling no matter how much he insists on following those instructions to the letter, Frank will come up with a way to trail him. With or without Joe's consent."

"I hope so," Laura murmured. She stayed contentedly ensconced in her husband's arms a moment longer before looking up at him. "Who are they? And what could they possibly want that only Frank could give them?"

Fenton was just about to respond, fairly sure he knew who had taken them and why, when the door to the basement opened. Two guards walked in followed by an impeccably well-dressed man, his dark hair neatly combed back and his eyes almost black in color. He radiated an air of authority that sent the message he expected his requests and orders to be obeyed immediately and without question.

Approaching the cell door, the aristocratically handsome man stopped just a few feet shy of it, slowly smiling at Fenton and Laura.

Recognizing the man immediately, Fenton moved slightly, positioning himself in front of his wife. Showing no emotion whatsoever, he watched the man waiting for him to speak.

"Hello, Fenton," the man greeted him, only the slightest accent detected in his near perfect English, "so nice to see you again."

Fenton stared at the man whose legendary brutality made him one of the world's most feared terrorists. He gave barely a nod of recognition.

"Jarrell," he replied simply, his theory on why he and Laura had been kidnapped now all but confirmed.


	5. Chapter 5

franknjoe wrote: "Just to be picky, how can Fenton have his hands tied and then "pull his wife close to him and held her" :)  
I had fun when I read that." I'd love to say I did that on purpose just to see if anyone would notice but alas that would be a lie. LOL! Lack of attention to detail and a brain f*rt are the only excuses I can offer. But I'm glad you got a laugh out of it! :p

For those who asked, yes we will eventually find out how Fenton and Laura were taken but it's going to be several more chapters before that comes to light. ;-)

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 5**

Frank put his coffee mug on the counter, picked up the phone and dialed his brother's number. As he expected, Joe pounced on it immediately.

"Frank?"

"Yeah, it's me. Listen, Joe, you need to come over here right away."

"Why? What's happened?"

"Just come over. Now." Frank hung up, preferring that Joe hear Laura's message for himself. Knowing it would take Joe at least ten minutes to get there, Frank sat down to finish his coffee.

Less than five minutes later, a dumbfounded Frank heard the squeal of tires in his driveway. It was followed by a car door being slammed shut, his own front door being thrown open and the sound of running feet. There was barely a second of complete silence when a very angry Joe confronted his stunned older brother.

"You hung up on me!"

Still a little shocked at Joe's swift appearance, Frank glanced at the clock on the wall and shook his head before looking back at Joe.

"Just how fast were you going?" he asked, ignoring Joe's accusation.

Joe smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "You don't want to know."

"I'm sure I don't," Frank agreed. He walked to the answering machine, motioning Joe to follow. "Listen to this."

Pressing the play button, Frank watched his brother carefully as he listened to the message. He saw initial relief as Joe heard their mother's voice. It was followed in quick succession by surprise, anger and fierce determination.

"About time," Joe said angrily when the message was done. "They could have had her make that call last night!"

"And deprive us of all that anguish?" Frank replied, not wanting to voice his fear that Laura may have been too incapacitated to make the call the previous evening.

"Well, at least we know they're okay for now." Joe began restlessly pacing the room. "And after I get back tonight, we'll know what the kidnappers want."

"Correction… after _we_ get back."

Joe stopped, mid-pace, and turned on his brother, his eyes narrowed. "She said I had to go alone, Frank. Alone. That means _without_ you."

"No way," Frank said adamantly, his protective instincts all ready in high gear. "This has 'set up' written all over it. They already have Mom and Dad. No way am I letting them get you, too."

"Why would they grab me, Frank? Mom said only you can meet their demands. If I don't come back, you won't know what they want," Joe pointed out.

Frank shook his head stubbornly. "No. I won't let you go alone."

"You _won't let me_ go alone?" Joe growled.

"You heard me," Frank snapped, the lack of sleep making him unusually irritable. "It's too dangerous."

"What, you think I'm incapable of making a simple pick up without my big brother there telling me what to do?!" Joe lashed out.

"No, of course not!" Frank shot back.

"If they had wanted _you_ to pick up the ransom demands alone, would you be so insistent that I go with you?"

Frank was silent for a moment. Joe had struck a nerve. "I just don't like it, Joe. It doesn't feel right."

"I don't like it either," Joe concurred, "but it's not worth risking Mom's life."

Frank rubbed his eyes tiredly, sinking into a chair at the kitchen table. He stared at Joe, concern oozing out of every pore. Images of Joe slowly paraded across his vision. Joe lying in a bed at the Campbell Psychiatric Center, completely out of touch with reality; chained to a fence in the wilderness, near death; lying in yet another hospital bed attached to more machines than Frank thought possible; lying on the floor in pain, clutching his left arm protectively; smiling proudly every day, when he saw that Frank was still wearing the ID bracelet Joe had given him for his twenty-fifth birthday. Frank fingered the bracelet, knowing Joe was right. A chair scraped on the floor and Frank looked up to see his younger brother watching him from across the table.

"Frank, I agree. This is probably a set up, but our hands are tied. If they even suspect I'm not alone, they'll kill Mom without a second thought. We don't have a choice. I _have_ to go alone." Joe felt a twinge of guilt seeing the anxiety on his brother's face. "And if they do grab me, I know you'll find us. You always do," Joe smiled.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. And you're right. We really don't have a choice."

Joe cupped a hand to his ear and leaned forward. "What? Did you just say I was _right_?"

Frank chuckled softly. "You heard what I said."

"Could you say it again?" Joe requested, a spark of mischief lighting his eyes. "Only this time could you preface it with _'I was wrong.'_ "

Frank smiled at his brother, only half listening to the continuing wisecracks as the beginnings of a plan formed in his mind.

**A/N:** I have to put a plug in here for _Hazards of the Internet_ by LazyPanther. I just finished reading it and I was HOWLING!! Laughed so hard I cried!! I'll bet thinking of this parody and chuckling all day long. :-)


	6. Chapter 6

Many, many thanks for the reviews. :-) You always make me smile and you have no idea how much I need that right now. So THANK YOU!

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 6**

Joe spent the afternoon trying to rest but his mind wouldn't cooperate. Worry for his parents and the knowledge that he could very well be walking into a trap in a few hours wouldn't allow him to relax enough to sleep much. The afternoon passed much too slowly and he was thankful when Vanessa finally arrived home from work. A short time later, they left for Frank and Callie's.

Dinner was quiet as the evening's events weighed heavily on the minds of all. Callie noticed that Vanessa would frequently glance at Joe throughout the meal, clearly worried that once he left the house he might not return. She also noticed that Frank didn't seem quite as worried as she expected at the thought of Joe going off on this mission alone. By the time dinner was completed and the dishes were done, it was close to eight o'clock. Callie discreetly excused herself and Frank stepped outside to give Joe and Vanessa a moment alone.

Joe and Vanessa stared at each other wordlessly. As Joe opened his arms, Vanessa slowly stepped forward and let herself be enveloped in his warm and protective embrace. Neither moved for several minutes, until finally Vanessa spoke.

"Don't forget to come back, okay?" she murmured, her head resting on Joe's shoulder.

Joe kissed the top of her head in reply, the silence reminding both of them that the night held no guarantees.

oooOOOooo

Outside in the cool night air, Frank wandered aimlessly down the driveway. Stopping behind his brother's car, he fingered the small device in his pocket. Feeling only the slightest twinge of guilt, he removed the object as he crouched down next to the Mustang. Reaching under the car, he attached the magnetized device to the bumper. Standing up, he heard a noise and whirled around finding himself face to face with his wife.

"What are you doing?" Callie asked.

"Uh, just checking the air in the tires," Frank said lamely, the words sounding more like a question than an answer.

"You're going to follow him, aren't you?" Callie guessed, now understanding why Frank seemed so calm at dinner. He never had any intention of letting Joe make the pick up alone.

"No." As Callie stared him down, he sighed knowing he'd been caught. "I don't have to follow him. It's a tracking device." He waved towards the bumper. "I'll follow the signal. When he stops at the pick up location, I'll hang back out of sight. As soon as he starts moving again, I'll head home. He'll never know."

Callie remained silent watching Frank start to squirm under her unwavering gaze.

"Something isn't right, Cal." Frank explained, attempting to justify his behavior. "I don't know what exactly, but I think it's a set up. They've already got Mom and Dad. I can't take the chance of them getting Joe too. I've almost lost him too many times this year. I'm not about to hand him over to them on a silver platter."

Taking a few steps forward, Callie closed the gap between herself and her husband, slipped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly. "You don't have to justify yourself to me."

Frank pulled her closer and held her tightly. "Thank you," he whispered against the softness of her hair.

Looking up he saw Joe and Vanessa approach, their arms wrapped securely around each other. They came to a stop next to the car. Frank stared at his younger brother for a moment.

"Call me on my cell as soon as you're on your way back."

Joe nodded then turned to Vanessa. Kissing her one more time, he got into his car and drove away into the night.

Watching Joe's car disappear down the street, Frank pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. Waiting for the person on the other end to pick up, he spoke three words, "He just left."

Folding the cell phone he returned it to his pocket ignoring the puzzled looks he got from Callie and Vanessa. "Let's go inside."

The three returned to the living room where Frank slowly paced the floor in front of the window, Callie wondered if he was going to tell Vanessa about the tracking device and Vanessa simply tried to keep her fears under control. Several moments later, Callie saw Frank glance out the window and make a beeline for the door. She heard the door open followed by the familiar sound of Sam Radley's voice.

A tall sandy haired man with blue eyes, Sam was Fenton Hardy's partner and best friend. He had watched Frank and Joe grow up and was almost as proud as Fenton when they joined the practice.

Frank and Sam returned to the living room and the questioning looks of Callie and Vanessa. Sitting down next to Vanessa, Frank explained his plan.

"Van, I put a tracking device on Joe's car. Sam is going to stay here with you and Callie while I follow him."

Vanessa's initial reaction was one of relief, which quickly mingled with concern. "But they said they'd kill your mother if Joe didn't go alone."

"Don't worry, I'm going to stay well out of sight. With the tracking device, I don't actually have to see Joe to follow him. I just want to be close by in case things don't go exactly as planned," Frank reassured her. "As soon as Joe picks up the ransom demands and starts moving again, I'll leave. No one will ever know I was there."

Vanessa looked at Frank for a long moment. Leaning forward, she kissed him on the cheek. "Don't let anything happen to him."

"I won't," Frank promised as he stood up to leave.

Kissing Callie goodbye, he nodded at Sam and headed off into the night.


	7. Chapter 7

Hugs and thanks to Polaris, Helen, Miss Fenway, MissMe113, heartnhome and Iola for the reviews!

Thank you to everyone who is reading and also to those who have added this story to their alerts and/or favorites. :-)

I didn't realize the chapters were so short until Polaris mentioned it. LOL! OOPS! When I'm writing, I know what I want to cover in a chapter and once it's 'covered' I stop writing, so I've never paid any attention to word counts. My apologies for the short chapters! ;-) If it's any consolation, the next chapter is twice as long as the last few have been! :p

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 7**

Following the signal emanating from the receiver on the seat next to him, Frank drove steadily west. As the miles passed, the homes and businesses began to dwindle until there was nothing but wide-open spaces. Driving through the small town of Hunter's Crossing, Frank noticed that Joe had turned left about a mile and a half past the town. As Frank watched Hunter's Crossing disappear in his rearview mirror, the receiver emitted a steady beep, indicating Joe had come to a stop. Driving more slowly, Frank continued on, passing a partially obscured dirt road that led into a heavily wooded area where the signal was coming from.

Making a U-turn, Frank pulled off the road just in front of the turn off. Hidden by the darkness, he could now see anyone going in or coming out without being seen himself. Settling back against the seat, Frank kept watch on both the receiver and the surrounding area, intending to head for home the second Joe started moving again. Staring into the black night, Frank thought back on his conversation with Joe earlier that day.

'_I do trust you, Bro,'_ Frank thought gazing at the entrance to the dirt road. _'It's the bad guys who have me worried.'_

Thinking about everything that had happened to Joe in the past year, he wondered if his brother somehow attracted trouble or if it just followed him wherever he went. Frank thumped the steering wheel lightly with his fist in frustration, knowing Joe still had some difficult times ahead before the year was out. While a date still hadn't been set, the trials of Keith Rashman and Dennis Malick, the two men who had abducted Joe in Chicago and nearly killed him, were still looming ahead of him.

Joe would have to return to Chicago and testify in graphic detail about the torture and abuse he had been subjected to. While Joe had finally opened up to Frank and confided in him about what had gone on during his captivity, Frank wasn't at all sure Joe was ready to talk about it in front of a courtroom full of strangers.

Frank recalled his promise to be by Joe's side through the entire ordeal._ 'We'll get you through it together.'_

Checking his watch, Frank frowned. It seemed to be taking an awfully long time to simply pick up the ransom demands. Not knowing what Joe had been instructed to do once he got out of his car, Frank decided to give his brother a bit longer.

Ten minutes later, Frank was certain Joe should have been back in his car and on the move by now. Reaching under the seat, Frank pulled out a heavy-duty flashlight and got out of the car. Shielding the light with his hand, Frank quietly made his way down the dirt path. Staying to the side of the road, Frank forced himself to move slowly not wanting his presence to be discovered. Periodically playing his light over the road, Frank noted there were no tire tracks other than Joe's.

'_At least nobody followed him in before I got here,'_ Frank thought, not quite sure if that was a comfort or not.

Half a mile down the heavily wooded road, Frank made out the shape of a car up ahead. Every sense on high alert, he made his way to Joe's car. Cautiously circling the vehicle, Frank noted Joe had stopped because the road came to an abrupt end.

Moving the flashlight over the ground as he walked, Frank stopped momentarily when the beam of light picked up a piece of paper lying in the grass. Focusing the light on the discarded paper, Frank saw it was actually a large manila envelope. Taking a pair of latex gloves from his pocket, Frank slipped them on and gingerly picked up the envelope by the corner, noting it was still sealed and obviously had not been exposed to the elements at all.

Studying the area around where the envelope had been lying, Frank noticed a small, dark, wet spot on the grass. He moved the beam of light once more and picked up a few more spots leading towards the driver's side door of Joe's car. Walking closer, Frank's stomach twisted in a knot, as the drops grew larger and more frequent.

Holding his breath, Frank shone the light on Joe's car picking up the same dark, wet spots. He played the light back and forth over the trail of spots and splatters, not wanting to admit what he knew had to be true.

As he stared at one particular spot on the car, it formed into a drop and rolled down the frame. The knot in his stomach seemed to explode as the drop fell to the ground making a small indentation in the dirt. Reaching out, Frank tentatively touched one of the wet spots on the car with a single gloved finger. Holding his finger in the beam of light, he stared at it in disbelief.

'_Blood!'_


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks so much for the reviews! You guys rock. :-) As promised, a much longer chapter.

I want to send a *HUG* to any fellow _Supernatural_ lovers who, like me, are mourning the sudden loss of Kim Manners. :-( I was lucky enough to meet and talk to him in 2006 and he was not only a phenomenal producer /director, he was also a kind, caring and very compassionate human being. Rest in peace, Kim. You will be missed. :-(

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 8**

Joe eyed the clock on the dashboard as he drove west out of Bayport. At exactly 8:05 his cell phone rang. Picking it up off the passenger seat, Joe answered.

"Hello?"

"Hi, honey."

"Mom!" Joe gasped. "Are you all right? Is Dad okay?"

"We're fine, sweetie," she assured him. "I have the directions you need. Are you ready?"

Joe quickly picked up on the same monotone in his mother's voice that had been present on the answering machine and knew she was once again being told exactly what to say. "I'm ready."

"Take route forty west out of Bayport for fifty miles. After you pass through Hunter's Crossing, you'll come to some railroad tracks. One mile after you cross over the tracks, you'll come to a dirt road on the left. It's partially obscured so keep a look out for it. Take that road until it ends.

"Get out of the car and follow the trail next to the field. When you come to where the woods begin again, you'll see a large oak tree. There's an envelope at the base of the tree with the ransom demands in it. Don't open it there. Don't open it until you and Frank are together. You'll be watched to make sure you comply. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I do. Mom?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, sweetie." Her soft reply was followed by a click, telling Joe she was gone.

Resisting the urge to press the gas pedal to the floor, Joe hovered at the speed limit for the next fifty-plus miles, an agonizingly slow pace. Finally arriving at the turn off, Joe followed it to the end. With his nerves on edge, Joe took a moment to survey his surroundings, looking for any sign of ambush.

Grabbing a flashlight, Joe got out of the car and cautiously made his way down the trail. Walking beside the open field for a few moments, he saw a stand of trees just ahead. Locating the large oak tree, Joe shone his flashlight over the ground at the base of the tree, relieved to see a manila envelope lying against the trunk.

Picking up the envelope that he hoped would lead him and Frank to their parents, Joe quickly and quietly made his way back down the overgrown dirt path.

Joe smiled smugly to himself._ 'And Frank was worried I couldn't handle it without him._ _It was a piece of cake. Almost too easy.'_

His smile faltered and he suddenly became aware of every little sound in the woods surrounding him. A small animal startled by Joe's presence scurried into the underbrush, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin. An owl hooted in the distance and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Every sense he had was on high alert.

'_Too easy. Way too easy…'_

Laura's words suddenly came roaring back at Joe. _"You'll be watched to make sure you comply."_

'_Or to make sure they can pick me off!'_ Joe broke into a run, his heart pounding in time with his feet hitting the ground, certain he was about to be attacked. _'Frank was right. It's a set up!'_

Pouring on the speed, Joe ran his heart out. He was determined not to become another hostage. He and Frank had been consumed with worry about their parents being held hostage by these criminals and he did not want his brother now worrying about him too. Squinting into the darkness, Joe was able to make out the shape of his car just ahead.

'_Yes! I made it!' _Reaching for the door handle, he finally allowed himself to relax and breathe a sigh of relief.

Without warning, Joe was shoved up against his car, knocking the wind out of him. The flashlight flew from his hand, rolling under the car and the envelope fluttered to the ground. His arms were grabbed and roughly pulled behind his back while another hand slammed his head into the roof of the car face first, causing him to see stars. Joe could taste blood in his mouth as he felt his hands being tied with rope. He winced as they pulled the rope much tighter than it needed to be so it was digging in to the skin on his wrists. Unable to move his hands at all, Joe could already feel the skin under the ropes starting to bleed.

'_Stupid!'_ he cursed himself for letting his guard down too soon. _'Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!'_

Someone grabbed a handful of his hair, pulling his head back. He felt hot breath on his neck as the person spoke.

"Thought you were going to make a clean getaway, huh?" the voice taunted him. "Sorry we had to ruin your plans."

His head was once again slammed against the car and his knees started to buckle. Someone grabbed him under the arms to support him and keep him from falling to the ground.

"You don't want to pass out just yet, Hardy. This party is just getting underway and you'll miss all the fun," a second voice said. Although he was dazed, Joe recognized the voice and it caused his blood to run cold.

'_Garrison!'_

Joe was grabbed by the shoulder and roughly spun around. He found himself eye to eye with Joel Garrison and knew he was in deep trouble. Garrison, a key figure in the terrorist organization Joe and Frank were currently testifying against, had taken an instant dislike to Joe when he'd infiltrated the organization. His hatred only grew as Joe had proven himself time and again to be much more capable, physically and intellectually, than Garrison. Joe had quickly usurped many of Garrison's responsibilities, as the higher ups in the organization had been impressed with his abilities. Now staring at the mustached, balding man with bulging muscles, Joe knew Garrison was just aching to pay him back for the humiliation.

Garrison moved closer to Joe until his face was just inches away. "Somehow I don't think you're going to win this time, Pretty Boy," he sneered referring to the way Joe had easily beaten him in a fight in one of their first encounters.

"Maybe not. But I didn't need someone to take a few pot shots at you and tie your hands behind your back before I could take you," Joe said defiantly, spitting a mouthful of blood onto Garrison's shirt. If he was going down, he wasn't going to do it quietly.

Too late, he saw the rage in Garrison's eyes. His midsection exploded in pain and he doubled over when Garrison kneed him in the stomach. The only thing keeping him from falling to the ground were the two men holding his arms, who pulled him up just enough to let Garrison have a clear shot at his face. Joe saw the uppercut coming but could do nothing to avoid it. His head snapped back, making contact with the car for the third time. His vision started to fade and the voices and laughter of the three men seemed farther away.

"Not yet, Blondie," one of the voices said, grabbing Joe's hair, forcing him to look at Garrison. The man was standing a few steps in front and slightly to the left of Joe. Vaguely aware of a light slapping sound, Joe forced his eyes to focus on Garrison's hands and immediately regretted it. He was holding a heavy wooden bat in his right hand, lightly slapping it against his left palm.

He looked Joe in the eye and smiled. "You don't know how much I am going to enjoy this."

Holding the bat firmly with both hands, he drew back and swung as if he were going for the winning run in the World Series. The bat connected solidly with Joe's stomach and he doubled over in agony, biting his lip, unwilling to give Garrison the satisfaction of hearing him cry out in pain.

The other two men pulled him upright once again. Garrison swung a second time, aiming a little higher. This time Joe couldn't hold back and gasped painfully as the bat connected with his ribs. His legs gave out completely and he would have been lying face down in the dirt had Garrison's two companions not continued to hold him up. Once more, they pulled him into a standing position. One of them grabbed his hair again and pulled his head up. Garrison slapped him lightly on the cheek, waiting for Joe to focus on him

"Goodnight, Blondie," he laughed and took one last swing.

The last thing Joe saw was the bat coming directly at his head. His world exploded in pain, which was quickly swallowed up by darkness.

oooOOOooo

Fenton Hardy's head snapped up as he heard the scrape of a key in the door's lock. The door to the basement opened and four of Jarrell's men walked in followed by Jarrell himself. Two of the men each carried a chair and a length of rope. Striding confidently to the cell door, Jarrell smiled at Laura and Fenton.

"Fenton, please step to the side of the cell, up against the bars," he requested politely.

Having no choice, Fenton complied and was immediately handcuffed to the bars by one of Jarrell's henchmen who then held a gun to his head.

"Mrs. Hardy," Jarrell began, still smiling, "one of my men is going to enter the cell. You will sit in the chair he's brought for you and allow him to tie you securely in place."

Despite the fire in her eyes, Laura nodded silently, understanding her husband would be killed instantly if she did not obey the instructions. Once her arms were bound behind her and secured to the chair, the man who had tied her up pulled out a gun and held it to her forehead. One glance from Jarrell told Fenton he was now to allow himself to be similarly bound. Seething inside, he complied.

After his men stepped out of the cell leaving the door open, Jarrell looked from Laura to Fenton, his smile growing. "It seems one of your boys has decided to join you. Although I'm afraid my men were a little…hmm, how should I say this…overzealous with him."

Fenton and Laura exchanged a worried glance.

"My apologies. I do hope he'll recover."

As Jarrell snapped his fingers, three men walked through the basement door and entered the cell carrying a seemingly lifeless body between them. Fenton's eyes widened in fear. Laura felt the breath catch in her throat. They looked at each other and then watched in horror as a beaten, bloody and unconscious Joe was dumped, unceremoniously, on the floor at their feet.


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks so much for the reviews! :D

Amal, I'm a Joe-ette through and through and I love Frank in the big brother role so I'm not sure I'll be able to help you get your 'Frank fix'. BUT I can highly recommend a story on this site that might help: _Pandora_ by Dawn FD. Don't let the summary fool you, it IS a Frank story and it is AWESOME!!! :-) The follow up to that story, _Boosting_, is on the Hardy Detective Agency site, though I'm not sure if Dawn has posted it here yet. Anyway, yup if you're in need of a Frank-fix, _Pandora_ is the story for you! ;-)

Thank you to all who are reading. :-)

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 9**

Frank stared at the blood-red smear on his fingertip, still not wanting to admit what it meant. Looking past his finger to the ground illuminated by the light, he now saw obvious signs of a struggle. Trampled grass and displaced dirt confirmed what he had not wanted to see – Joe had been ambushed.

Straightening up, Frank pushed his swirling emotions aside and focused on the clues he had – the trampled grass, the marks and indentations in the dirt and the trail of blood. Methodically following the drops of blood, they led Frank to a stand of trees several yards to the left of Joe's car. Playing his flashlight along the ground, Frank saw what looked like a piece of wood sticking out of the underbrush. Crouching down for a closer look, he saw it was actually the handle of a bat and it hadn't been there very long.

Grasping the end of the bat, Frank gently pulled it out of the tangle of overgrown grass and weeds. Shining the light along the bat, his eyes grew wide at what he saw. When he got to the very end of the bat, he gasped out loud. Pulling it in for a closer look, Frank felt sick to his stomach. The end of the bat was stained red, with several blonde hairs now embedded in the drying blood.

Carrying the bat, Frank retraced his steps back to Joe's car and bent down to examine the trampled grass more closely. Shining his light under the car, he saw Joe's flashlight lying in the dirt. Reaching out, he grabbed the light and pulled it out, shoving it in his back pocket. Standing up, he followed the trail left by Joe's captors as they had obviously dragged him through the dirt and across the open field.

As he approached a wooded area, Frank saw the trail led off to the right ending at a small opening in the trees. Walking closer, Frank found it was actually the entrance to another wider dirt trail. Scrutinizing the ground in front of him, Frank cursed when he made out the tire tracks of three separate ATV's.

"Damn!" Frank swore under his breath, his anger growing as he realized Joe had been attacked and abducted while he had been sitting in his car, hidden in the shadows of the entrance to the dirt road. While Frank had been waiting for Joe to emerge out of the woods, his captors had taken Joe and disappeared _into_ the woods.

Knowing there was nothing he could do alone in the unfamiliar woods in the dark, Frank swiftly returned to Joe's car, stopping long enough to make sure it was locked and continued on to his own car. Emerging from the dirt road, Frank broke into a jog towards his car, now wanting to get home as quickly as possible.

His mind was whirling with worry for his brother, his parents and the knowledge he still had no idea who – or what – he was up against. Knowing he needed Sam's help, Frank yanked his car door open and slid into the driver's seat. Placing the bat on the floor in such a way so as not to disturb the evidence, Frank then tossed the envelope on the seat next to him. As he turned to reach for his seat belt Frank froze, just now seeing the paper tucked under the windshield wiper.

Climbing halfway out of the car, Frank reached forward and grabbed the paper, settling back into the seat. Turning on the overhead light he carefully unfolded the paper, holding it by the very edges. Reading the handwritten message, his chest tightened.

**"We now have your entire family. Go home and wait for further instructions. – Johann Jarrell."**

Frank re-read the message, his breath catching in his throat as the implication hit him.

'_**Entire**__ family? Callie?! Vanessa!'_

Starting the car, Frank pulled onto the road, flooring the gas pedal. With one hand on the steering wheel, Frank used the other to dial his cell phone. Calling his home number, Frank was momentarily relieved when the call was picked up on the second ring. His raw nerves imploded as he listened to the phone company's pre-recorded message.

_"We're sorry. Your call cannot be completed at this time. Please hang up and try your call again later."_

Now paralyzed with fear, Frank pressed redial several times, continually getting the same devastating message. Finally throwing the phone against the door in frustration, Frank pressed down on the gas pedal even harder, willing the car to go faster.

As he raced back to Bayport Frank wasn't sure which was going faster, the speedometer on his car or the pounding of his heart. Breaking every speed limit, Frank arrived back in Bayport in record time. Racing through the suburban streets of his neighborhood, Frank came to a screeching halt in front of his house.

"Oh, God! _No_!" he cried out staring at the flashing lights of the police cars blocking the street and the ambulance parked in his driveway.


	10. Chapter 10

Thank you SO, SO MUCH for the kind reviews! :-)

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 10**

Staring at her youngest son lying on the floor unconscious and bleeding, Laura Hardy's anguished wails reverberated throughout the room. She struggled against her bonds trying to get to her injured child, knowing all the while it was an exercise in futility.

Fenton Hardy also stared at his son, desperately looking for some sign that Joe was still alive. Joe had been dropped on the floor face down, hands still bound behind him. His face was turned away from his parents and Fenton couldn't tell from that position whether or not he was even breathing. He looked at his wife, struggling madly to get free and feared she would injure herself.

"Let her go!" he said angrily. "Look at her. She just wants to hold him."

Jarrell's eyes flicked from Fenton to Laura who let out another heart breaking wail. He nodded once to the guard who moved forward and freed Laura from the bonds holding her to the chair. Immediately she dropped to her knees beside Joe.

"Joe?" she said tentatively, touching his hair. "Baby, can you hear me?" She leaned closer to him, her tears dropping onto his cheek. "Please, Joe, talk to me." Removing her hand from his hair, she stared at it in horror. It was covered with blood.

"NO!" she wailed, collapsing on top of him. "Oh, God, what did they do to you?!"

To Jarrell, his guards and even her husband, she appeared to be nothing more than a hysterical mother. Laura, however, knew exactly what she was doing. At this moment, she was an extremely concerned mother, but far from hysterical. Uppermost in her mind was getting much needed medical attention for her badly injured son.

Still lying across Joe's body, she cried out again at the same time surreptitiously reaching into the pocket of his jeans. She hadn't done his laundry for over twenty-one years without learning something. Praying he was still a creature of habit, she was rewarded when her fingers closed over his Swiss Army knife. Unobtrusively pulling it out, she kept it concealed within her hand and slowly sat up. Looking down, she saw that Joe's hands were still bound, his wrists raw, bleeding and covered in dirt. She looked up at Jarrell, her voice a low growl. "Untie his hands. Your men have already beaten him half to death. He can't hurt you."

Jarrell stood contemplating her request.

"NOW!" she yelled causing everyone in the room to jump.

"Please move behind your husband," Jarrell said.

Laura went to stand behind Fenton. She put a hand on his shoulder and leaned down to kiss his cheek. At the same time, she dropped the knife into his hands.

Fenton Hardy felt his wife slip a small object into his hands, hoping the shock didn't register on his face. They both watched as a guard moved forward and began to hack at the ropes binding Joe's wrists. When he moaned involuntarily, Fenton breathed a sigh of relief. Joe was in obvious pain but that meant he was still alive.

"Gently!" Laura ordered and the guard instinctively obeyed, not wanting to face the wrath of this angry mother.

The second Joe was free of his bonds Laura was at his side in an instant, the guard moving back a few steps. As another guard aimed a gun at Joe and Laura, Jarrell nodded towards Fenton as he addressed the first guard.

"You may untie him now."

When the guard was finished, the severed ropes and chairs were removed from the cell and the door was once again locked, leaving Fenton and Laura hovering over their unconscious child.

"What did your animals do to him?!" Fenton yelled at Jarrell, enraged.

"Come now, Fenton. You know how difficult and uncooperative he can be. My men had to be sure he'd be accommodating during transport," Jarrell replied with the same infuriating smile.

"Your _men_? Plural? You don't have _one_ man who could take him on alone? And even outnumbered they had to beat him unconscious? " Fenton mocked.

Jarrell's face showed a glimmer of rage before returning to the ever-present smile. "You're lucky I didn't have him killed immediately. I detest traitors."

"What did they do to you?" Laura murmured softly, taking one of Joe's hands in hers and examining it. Seeing the dirt embedded deep in the cuts and lacerations made by the rope, her anger quickly resurfaced. Still holding Joe's bloody hand, she looked up and glared at Jarrell.

"I want a First Aid kit." Laura demanded.

"We don't have…" Jarrell began.

Laura was instantly on her feet, practically throwing herself at the cell door where Jarrell stood. He flinched and took a few steps back.

"I want a First Aid kit and I want it _now_!" Laura snarled at him, fire in her eyes. "I saw it when you first dragged us in here so don't you _dare_ tell me you don't have one."

Something in his face told Laura he was going to comply. He started to turn away when she stopped him with her voice, adding, "And some towels. And water."

Fenton watched in amazement as his wife stood up to one of the most feared terrorists in the world and had a vision of an angry mother tiger protecting her young. Joe may have gotten his at times uncontrollable temper from Fenton, but it was abundantly clear which parent Joe inherited his defiant streak from.

Jarrell stared at her for a long moment then turned and left, as his guards followed behind him obediently.

Laura hung her head as tears filled her eyes. _'I pushed him too far with the water and towels. Now I won't get anything to help Joe.'_

Turning, she walked back to where Fenton sat on the floor next to their injured son. Laura knelt down beside them and touched Joe's cheek.

"I'm so sorry." She leaned down and kissed his cheek and then looked up at her husband. "I pushed too hard. I'm sorry."

"Laura, you stood up to a man who has every law enforcement agency in the world terrified. Something I didn't even think to do," her husband replied, in awe of her and ashamed of himself.

"But it won't help Joe." She tugged on the hem of her blouse and used it to try and wipe some of the blood from Joe's face.

"Honey, Jarrell is a terrorist. They're not really known for their compassion."

Suddenly the door to the room opened and two of the guards came in. One carried a box and the other carried a bucket and a gun. They stopped outside the cell door where the man with the bucket placed it on the floor. He then moved to the side of the cell. Saying nothing, he aimed his gun directly at Joe's head.

"I am going to open the door and push these inside," the man standing next to the door spoke. "If either of you even blinks I will kill all three of you, starting with your son."

Laura and Fenton watched in stunned silence as the cell door opened and the box and bucket were pushed inside. The cell door was closed and locked and the two men left without another word.

Laura looked at her husband in shock and then ran to the front of the cell. She picked up the box and carried it back to Fenton. Returning for the bucket, she dragged it back too, sloshing a little bit of water over the sides as she did so.

Laura quickly emptied the contents of the box, as excited as a child on Christmas morning. She pulled out a large first aid kit, some extra bandages, several towels both large and small and to her utter astonishment, two blankets – something she had neglected to ask for.

Fenton waited while she spread one of the large, fluffy towels on the hard floor. Joe moaned as Fenton gently laid him on the towel. "I'm sorry, son," he said quietly.

Laura and Fenton each took a small towel, dipped them in the bucket and gently began trying to clean the blood off their son. After several minutes, Joe was much cleaner allowing them to examine him more carefully for injuries. Opening the First Aid kit, Laura placed a large bandage over the wound on Joe's forehead that had been opened when he was struck with the bat. Feeling gently with her hands, she winced when she found a lump on the back of Joe's head where it had been smashed against the car. A swelling and bruised eye and bruised jaw were also evident on Joe's face.

As Laura checked Joe's head for any other signs of injury, Fenton gently lifted his son's shirt grimacing when he saw the deep purple bruises developing on Joe's ribs.

"He might have broken ribs," Fenton told Laura, pointing out the bruising.

Laura nodded silently, turning her attention to Joe's hands. Holding one of them, she noted the dirt still embedded deep in the cuts and lacerations despite their best efforts to clean the wounds completely.

"The dirt is ground in so deeply it's almost as if they dragged him through it," Laura said her voice catching.

"They probably did." Rummaging through the First Aid kit, Fenton retrieved the small plastic bottle of antiseptic Laura had used to clean the cut on Joe's forehead. Holding it up he looked at her questioningly.

"It's going to hurt him," Laura said sadly, knowing they didn't have a choice. "Go ahead and do it."

Holding one of Joe's hands over a small towel, Fenton poured some of the antiseptic on Joe's wrist letting it flow over his hand and onto the towel. As Laura predicted, even though he was unconscious, Joe moaned loudly and tried to pull his arm out of his father's grasp.

Fenton repeated the same procedure on Joe's other wrist, getting the same response from his son. Saving a little of the antiseptic, Fenton placed the cap back on the bottle and returned it to the First Aid kit as Laura once again examined Joe's wrists.

"Better, but I can still see some dirt in there," she said critically. Placing Joe's hands gently at his sides, Laura looked up at her husband. "What if they get infected? What if he _does_ have broken ribs? Or a concussion?" she asked, her tough façade starting to crack. "He needs to be in a hospital." Realizing how serious Joe's injuries could be Laura began to cry softly.

Suddenly Joe moaned, turning his head towards the sound of his mother crying. Laura took one of his hands in hers and gently stroked his forehead.

"Joe, can you hear me? Please, honey, open your eyes," Laura pleaded.

He moaned again and Laura gasped, looking at her husband. "He squeezed my hand!"

"Are you sure?" Fenton asked, now encouraged. Leaning forward, he took Joe's other hand in his. "Joe? Come on, son. Open your eyes. Talk to us."

Turning towards his father's voice, Joe opened his eyes and focused on Fenton for a second or two before closing them again. His lips moved slightly as if he were trying to say something. Fenton leaned his head closer trying to make out what Joe was saying.

"What is it?" he asked. This time he heard Joe clearly and his heart broke.

"Hurts…" Joe whispered with great effort. "Ever'thing…hurts."


	11. Chapter 11

A big thank you to Polaris, Iola, No1butjoe, whashaza, MissMe113, Alicia, heartnhome and pally for your comments. Life knocks me down but you guys ALWAYS pick me up! THANK YOU!! :-)

Glad so many of you liked Laura in the last chapter. :D My Laura Hardy does not sit around baking cookies and wringing her hands; and she doesn't take any crap from _anyone_. ;-)

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 11**

Frank threw open the car door, raced up the front lawn and barreled into his house, now in a full-blown panic.

"Callie!" Frank cried out as he ran through the door and right into Con Riley.

Con quickly saw the absolute terror in his friend's eyes. "Frank, she's all right. They're all fine."

"Where? Where is she?!" Frank tried to pull away, needing to see for himself that Callie was indeed safe.

"In the living room. Calm down, Frank. They're _fine_. Sam was the only one who was injured and it's just minor. Just take a minute to calm down, okay?"

Taking a deep breath, Frank tried to steady his nerves and slow his erratic heart beat. Feeling only slightly more composed Frank followed Con into the living room, shocked at what he saw.

Callie and Vanessa were seated on the couch talking quietly. Sam was in a chair, watching as an EMT wrapped a gauze bandage around his left forearm. An end table had been over turned, a lamp was broken and the shattered remnants of a vase littered the floor.

"What happened?" Frank asked, stunned.

Hearing his voice, Callie jumped off the couch and flew into his arms. Holding her tighter than he thought possible, Frank buried his face in her hair. Feeling Callie tremble in his arms, Frank murmured in her ear as he gently rubbed her back. Frank felt as if he could stay lost in that moment forever but a soft voice brought him back to reality.

"Will Joe be back soon?"

Frank stiffened at Vanessa's question. Slowly turning to look at her, Frank reached out and took her hands in his.

Vanessa looked from Frank to Callie and back again. "He's not coming back, is he?"

Seeing the look of devastation Vanessa was attempting to hide, Frank's guilt grew by leaps and bounds. "I'm sorry, Van," he said hoarsely, squeezing her hands. "It _was_ a set up. I was sitting at the entrance to the road where his car was stopped. I just assumed anyone trying to ambush him would have to go in that way and I would see them. I was wrong. They came from the other side. I never even knew he was in trouble." Frank shook his head as if the movement would shake off the guilt he was feeling. "I never should have let him go alone."

"You _didn't_ let him go alone," Vanessa reminded him. "You got as close as you could without endangering your mother."

Frank smiled at her gratefully, wishing he had a fraction of her inner strength at that moment.

"He's probably with your parents now, right?" she asked hopefully, missing the anxious look that briefly flashed in Frank's eyes.

"I'm sure he is," Callie answered for him. "And between Joe and Mr. Hardy, they'll come up with an escape plan in no time," she added positively, looking to Frank for support.

Ignoring Callie's comment, Frank looked over at Sam. That one simple gesture let Callie know Frank was holding something back; something he was not ready to share with Vanessa just yet.

"I need to talk to Sam for a minute." Frank gave Vanessa's hand a final squeeze before making a quick exit. Seeing the EMT's packing up their gear, Frank walked over to Sam and Con Riley, suddenly feeling exhausted.

"You okay?" Frank asked Sam, eyeing his bandaged arm.

"Fine." Sam shrugged it off. "Didn't even need stitches. Where's Joe?"

Frank shook his head no. "You first. What happened here?"

"We were attempting to watch TV until you and Joe got back. I went into the kitchen to get a drink. Next thing I know I hear the front door open. I heard several sets of footsteps and male voices ordering Callie and Vanessa to kneel on the floor with their hands behind their heads.

"Apparently whoever it was didn't realize I was here, too. The girls stalled them long enough for me to sneak up on them. Unfortunately there were four of them and only one of me."

"Still looks like you got the better of them," Frank commented surveying the damage to his living room.

"Not me," Sam chuckled. "Callie and Vanessa. When I made my presence known, they all turned to look at me, obviously surprised. Vanessa beaned one of them with the lamp, Callie used a vase on another, one of them came at me with a knife," Sam paused holding up his bandaged arm, "and the other one just took off."

"Did you catch any of them?"

Con smiled. "Vanessa's guy. He was still out like a light when we got here."

"Good for her," Frank murmured, glancing at his future sister-in-law.

"He's still unconscious, though, so we haven't been able to question him yet. We have no idea who they were or why they wanted the girls." Con frowned.

Sam noted the anger flash in Frank's eyes, turning them almost black. "But you _do_," he observed.

Frank hesitated looking at Con, unsure whether to say anything in front of him. Any hint of police involvement would result in his family being killed immediately – that much Frank knew for sure.

"Off the record?" Con guessed.

"Has to be," Frank confirmed.

Putting away his pad and pen, Con motioned Frank and Sam to follow him out of earshot of the officers collecting evidence in the room. "Okay, go ahead."

"It's Jarrell," Frank said soberly. "And he's got Joe."

Con ran a hand through his hair nervously as Sam muttered something unintelligible.

"What happened?" Sam asked, looking at Frank intensely. To anyone else, Frank appeared as calm and in control as always. Having known Frank since he was a small boy, however, Sam could tell the strain of the last twenty-four hours combined with lack of sleep was starting to take a serious toll on him.

"First, I haven't told Vanessa everything yet. All she knows is Joe was caught."

Con and Sam nodded their understanding.

"I tracked Joe to a dirt road leading into a heavily wooded area about a mile and a half past Hunter's Crossing. I didn't want Joe, or anyone else, to spot me so I pulled off the main road into the shadows. I still had a clear view of the road so I could see anyone going in or coming out. The tracker showed Joe had stopped about a half mile down the dirt road.

"I waited and waited for him to start moving again, but he never did. When forty five minutes went by with no sign of movement, I knew something was wrong." Frank stopped and looked at Sam, guilt ridden. "I should have _insisted_ we go together. I could have hidden in the back seat, the trunk…something." Frank rubbed a hand across his eyes tiredly.

"You couldn't risk it, Frank. They would have killed Laura in an instant. Your plan was a good one," Sam reassured him.

"Then why is Joe missing? And hurt?" Frank whispered harshly.

"How do you know he's hurt?" Con asked, his eyes narrowed.

"Outside," Frank said quietly. He nudged them towards the door, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure Callie had Vanessa occupied.

"When I got to his car I saw an envelope lying on the ground. When I bent down to pick it up, I saw blood on the grass." Frank explained as he led Sam and Con to his car. "There were spots of blood in the dirt and on Joe's car."

Pulling open the passenger side door of his car, Frank asked Con for a latex glove. Putting it on, he reached in and pulled out the bat. By the dim glow of the car's interior light, Con and Sam could easily make out the dried blood and blonde hair stuck to the end of it.

"Do you want me to have it tested just to make sure?" Con asked. "Off the record?"

"Would you?" Frank asked, knowing it would confirm the blood and hair belonged to Joe.

"Of course." Con took the bat in his gloved hand. "Be right back."

Frank waited until Con had stowed the bat in his police cruiser and rejoined them before continuing. Reaching back into the car, Frank pulled out the envelope he'd found on the ground.

"This is supposed to contain the ransom demands Joe picked up. My guess is the only thing in here is blank paper," Frank said with disgust as he held the envelope aloft.

"What makes you say that?" Sam asked.

"When I got back to my car, I found this on the windshield." Frank reached into the car one more time. Emerging with the note from Jarrell, he held it up so both Con and Sam could read it.

"_Your entire family_," Sam read from the note. "So Jarrell expected to have Callie and Vanessa, too, by the time you got this note."

"Exactly. He had no idea you were here. Which means his men weren't watching the house and I _could_ have gone with Joe without them ever knowing!" Frank said with disgust aimed solely at himself. Slamming the car door shut in frustration, Frank slumped against it running his hands through his hair.

Seeing that Frank was slowly starting to unravel, Sam tried to get him back on track. "Frank, what we need to do to is, number one, get the girls to a safe house – now. Number two, figure out where Jarrell is holding Joe and your parents. Three-"

"Get them back!" Frank finished for him, anger surfacing in his voice.

"Right. And we'll never get that done if you keep second guessing yourself." Sam squeezed his shoulder. "You and Joe both knew there was a risk tonight. Plan A didn't work out in our favor. We have to regroup and come up with Plan B. And we can't do that if you keep beating yourself up about this. I need you at one hundred percent, Frank. No distractions."

Frank sighed and looked at the man he'd come to see as a second father, knowing Sam was absolutely right.

'_You may have won the battle, Jarrell, but you won't win the war.' _Frank thought with new determination.

Seeing the familiar look in Frank's eyes, Sam smiled inwardly and then turned to Con. "I'll have to get Callie and Vanessa to a safe house and stay with them. If Frank needs any help, unofficially…" He let his voice trail off.

"All you have to do is call," Con assured Frank. "In the meantime, I'll finish up here and get down to the station so I can get the bat tested." He stopped and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "How do you want to report this?" Con motioned towards the house.

"Attempted robbery," Frank replied. "Even when that guy wakes up, he'll never talk. Not about Jarrell anyway."

Nodding in agreement, Con let one of the officers know he was heading back to the station and left.

"So Vanessa doesn't know that Joe has probably been hurt," Sam commented as he and Frank walked to the house.

"No. I haven't told her yet."

"Don't," Sam advised. "It'll be hard enough getting her to agree to go into hiding as it is. If she knows Joe is hurt, she definitely won't want to go. I'll tell her once we get to the safe house. Does Callie know?"

"I think she picked up that I wasn't telling them everything," Frank said as they walked into the house.

Immediately Vanessa descended on them, wanting to know what had happened to Joe. Swallowing his guilt and almost choking on it, Frank gave her the abridged version of what had gone on, saying simply he found evidence of a struggle and then told her and Callie about the note from Jarrell.

"Those men who broke in tonight work for Jarrell. They were supposed to grab both of you too," Frank explained.

"And they'll be back to finish the job," Sam said gravely. "So we need to get you to a safe house – tonight."


	12. Chapter 12

MissMe113, Alicia and pally – thanks so much for the reviews! :-)

Thank you to all those who are reading.

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 12**

Vanessa looked at Frank intently, determination in her eyes. "Have you reported all this to the police? Will they be leading the search for Joe and your parents?"

"No," Frank admitted. "If I go to the police, Jarrell will kill them immediately."

"So it's just you and Sam who will be searching?" Vanessa asked incredulous, not giving Frank a chance to respond. "Forget it. I'm not leaving. You're going to need all the help you can get. I want to help find Joe."

Frank sighed even though he had expected as much. "I'm going to call the guys for help," he said, referring to the childhood friends he and Joe were still close to, deftly leaving out the fact that Sam wouldn't be assisting in the search. "I'll have plenty of help. But if I'm worrying about when Jarrell's men are going to make a move on you and Callie, it'll slow us down."

Vanessa continued staring at him, not happy about being sent into hiding, but Frank could see she understood the logic behind his request even if she didn't like it. When Vanessa remained silent, Frank played his trump card. He felt bad using Vanessa's love for Joe against her but he knew it was the only way she would agree to his plan.

"Vanessa," he began, "Joe would want you to be safe above all else, you know that. And if he's not here to ensure that happens, he expects me to do it. He _knows_ I'll do it. Please, Van," Frank begged, "you're not safe here."

Vanessa glared at him. "That's low."

"Maybe. But if it works, I don't care."

Vanessa thought a moment longer, more for effect than anything else before reluctantly agreeing. "Fine. I'll go."

"Thank you." Frank smiled with relief as he turned to Sam. "Can you take Vanessa home so she can pack a bag, then come back here and get Callie?"

"Sure," Sam replied. "Be back soon."

The second Sam and Vanessa were out the door Callie confronted her husband. "Okay, what is it you don't want Vanessa to know."

"I'm pretty sure Joe's hurt. I just don't know how badly," Frank said, concerned. "And I don't intend to keep it from her altogether. I just don't want her to know until she's at the safe house. If she knew Joe was hurt, she'd never leave. Sam's going to tell her as soon as you get there."

"Why don't you tell me what happened and I'll help him explain it to her," Callie offered.

Pulling her into his arms, Frank held Callie closely. Early on in their relationship, Frank had known Callie was the one; he'd never had any doubts. Even when Callie had been blackmailed into deceiving him, Frank knew deep inside they'd work through it and come out that much stronger and he'd been right. So often Callie sensed exactly what Frank needed from her, sometimes even before he did, just as she did now.

"Thanks." Frank kissed her softly. "I know Sam will appreciate it."

Accompanying Callie upstairs, Frank described what he'd found while he watched her pack. As he told her about the bloody bat hidden in the underbrush, he couldn't help but think he should have done more than simply relying on the tracking device.

"I should have made him wear a wire. Or at least planted a bug on him," Frank said miserably. "Then I would have known he was in trouble and I could have helped. Instead, I was sitting in my car totally oblivious while Joe was being attacked. Brilliant plan," he finished derisively.

Her bag now packed, Callie sat on the bed next to Frank, taking his hands in hers.

"It was a good plan. Joe would never have gone along with anything else and you know that. In fact he'll probably let you have it when he finds out about the tracking device," she said, letting Frank know she expected Joe to land on his feet and have everything turn out fine in the end. Hearing a car outside, Callie got up and walked to the window overlooking the driveway. "It's Sam and Vanessa."

Nodding, Frank picked up her overnight bag and followed her downstairs, meeting Sam and Vanessa in the foyer.

"We better get going," Sam said looking at his watch. "It'll take a few hours to get there."

Escorting them out to the car, Frank kissed Callie goodbye and gave Vanessa a quick hug telling her not to worry.

"I won't," she replied, reverting back to the positive outlook Frank was so used to seeing from her. "Between Joe and your Dad, they'll probably be home before morning."

Frank glanced at Sam questioningly. He felt bad keeping the truth from Vanessa even for a short while. Almost imperceptibly, Sam shook his head no indicating they should stick to the original plan. As Callie and Vanessa got settled in the car, Sam told Frank where they'd be, promising to call as soon as they arrived.

Frank watched as they pulled out of the driveway and disappeared down the street. Slowly, he made his way back into the empty house. After he'd righted the end table, picked up what was left of the lamp and vase and vacuumed the floor, Frank sat on the couch, alone and lonely.

More out of habit than anything else, he picked up the remote and turned on the television. He tried to concentrate as pictures flashed across the screen, but the only images Frank saw were the drops of blood on the grass, the dirt and Joe's car…and the bloody bat.

Frank tried to find consolation by reminding himself that Joe was probably with their parents by now, who would do their best to treat whatever injuries Joe might have. Turning off the television, Frank got up and headed for the stairs. He needed to be doing something – anything – to try to find Joe and his parents. Smiling, Frank realized he was acting more like Joe than himself.

Walking into the office, he sat down and turned on the computer. Frank knew Jarrell had to be hiding out somewhere in the vicinity of Hunter's Crossing, probably deep in the woods. He'd been at the trial every day so he couldn't be all that far away. Not being familiar with the area, Frank decided to use the Internet to learn all he could about the small town and the land surrounding it. Just as he was about to begin, the phone rang.

"Frank Hardy," he answered. The voice that responded chilled him to the bone.

"Frank, so good to hear your voice again," Jarrell said as if speaking to a long lost friend. "We weren't able to acquire your wife or your brother's fiancée, but we do have Joe and your parents."

"Let me talk to Joe," Frank demanded.

"I wish I could, Frank, but he's a little, shall we say…incapacitated…at the moment."

A shiver ran down his spine as Frank recalled just how vicious Jarrell could be when he felt he'd been betrayed by one of his men. "What do you want?"

"Instructions will be delivered to your house in the morning. They're self-explanatory. You will follow them to the letter or your family will be killed. We'll start by letting your parents watch their son die a very slow and painful death. Have I made myself clear, Frank?"

Frank grit his teeth. "Yes."

"Good. Have a pleasant evening."

Hanging up the phone, Frank turned back to the computer as Jarrell's words echoed in his ears. _"…a very slow and painful death…"_

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Frank murmured as he settled in for another long and sleepless night.


	13. Chapter 13

Thanks to all who are reading.

Big hugs to Helen, No1butjoe, Polaris, pally, heartnhome and MissMe113 for the reviews! :-)

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 13**

_"Everything hurts."_

Laura squeezed her eyes shut as the words tore at her heart. Hearing a painful gasp, her eyes flew open to see Joe attempting to push himself up.

"No, honey, be still," she said gently holding him down.

Joe clutched at his side. "Can't…breathe…"

"You need to sit up?" Fenton asked, realizing Joe's injured ribs were making it painful for him to breathe in a prone position.

Joe nodded, then winced at the incessant pounding in his head.

Folding one of the blankets and a few of the towels, Laura made a makeshift pillow against the hard cement wall. Grasping Joe under the arms, Fenton maneuvered him to a semi-reclined position as gently as possible.

"Better?" Fenton asked.

"Yeah…ooh…no…" Joe paled as his vision began to blur and his stomach started to rebel.

'_Oh, great. Please don't let me barf now,'_ he thought knowing how painful an experience that would be with bruised or broken ribs. Covering his mouth with one hand, Joe attempted to get his stomach under control.

Seeing he was going to lose the battle, Laura grabbed a plastic bag from the First Aid kit thrusting it under Joe's face just in the nick of time and rubbed his back comfortingly. A moment later, Joe raised his head sweating, coughing and breathing heavily trying to decide which hurt worse – his head, his ribs or his pride.

"Sorry, Mom," he croaked as Laura disposed of the offending bag by tossing it through the bars to the other side of the room.

Dipping a towel in the bucket of cool water, Laura smiled as she wiped Joe's face. "I changed your diapers from the day you were born. Trust me, I've seen worse." Glancing at her husband, who was looking a little green around the gills, she added, "Although I'm not sure your father has."

Smiling wanly, Fenton rooted around for a makeshift cup, finding a plastic bottle of water rolling around in the bottom of the box Laura had unpacked. Unscrewing the cap, he held the bottle to Joe's lips. "Just a little sip. I don't want a repeat of what just happened."

"Me neither," Joe mumbled taking a very small sip of water. Settling against the pile of towels and the blanket, Joe closed his eyes and took stock of his injuries, trying to find one place on his body that didn't hurt. Reaching up, he touched the bandage on his forehead. "Ow…" He moaned pitifully.

"Well, don't touch it silly," Laura admonished, moving his hand away.

Joe opened his eyes to look at his mother and found there were three of her, letting out another pathetic moan. "There's three of you, Mom. That's not good, huh?"

"Under any other circumstances I'd say we hit the jackpot with three of your mother," Fenton responded, winking at his wife, "but combined with the fact that you just threw up, I'd say you probably have at least a mild concussion. That's definitely _not_ a good thing."

Having found a somewhat comfortable position given his injuries, Joe closed his eyes once more, happy to let his mother tend to him like she did when he was a small boy.

"You were ambushed?" Fenton questioned. "Having you go alone to pick up the ransom demands was a set up, right?"

Joe nodded and immediately grimaced, as his stomach told him nodding was not a good thing to do. In fact, any movement at all didn't seem to agree with him at the moment.

"What did they hit you with?" Fenton asked, his tone serious.

"You mean _after_ they slammed my head against the car a few times?" Joe asked sarcastically, not opening his eyes. "A knee, a fist, a baseball bat. I'm not sure after that. Coulda been anything." He shifted a little but, deciding there was no such thing as a 'comfortable position', settled on the one that caused the least amount of pain and smallest amount of rebellion from his stomach. Cracking one eye slightly, he looked at his father. "So what happened to you guys?" He closed his eyes again, the darkness being much more preferable to his pounding head than the dim light in the cell.

Joe heard his mother sigh. "It was such a nice night I thought we could eat out on the deck. When I stepped out the back door to see if there were enough chairs, I heard a click and felt a gun in my back. A man told me to call your father outside."

"When I came out," Fenton said taking up the story, "I got the same treatment. They marched us across the backyard and through the field behind the house. There was a van waiting in the road on the other side of the field. They put us in the back of the van, tied us up and blindfolded us and here we are."

"Shoulda listened to Frank," Joe muttered, opening one eye to attempt a glare at his father. "But don't you _dare_ tell him I said that."

Fenton couldn't help but chuckle. "Why not?"

"He said right away your disappearance had something to do with the trial."

"And you didn't agree?"

Joe shrugged, and then winced as his body screamed in protest at even the slightest movement. "I already testified. I figured if Jarrell wanted to discredit us or get us to change our testimony, he would have done it _before_ I testified."

"Well, now that we know how we all got here, we have to figure a way to get out," Fenton said.

Laura looked at her husband crossly. "Joe is in no condition to move."

"I'm fine, Mom," Joe lied, knowing his father was right.

"Oh, really?" Laura replied crossing her arms over her chest. "Well open your eyes and tell me how many of me you're seeing now, young man."

"Doesn't matter if there's one of you or ten of you, Mom. We have to get out of here. Don't worry, I'll be fine," he reassured her, hoping to convince himself as well as his mother.

"You do need to rest, Joe," Fenton agreed with his wife. "We can figure a way out of here tonight, but we won't make a move until sometime tomorrow." He knew Joe wouldn't get far in his current condition and hoped a night of rest would at least allow Joe enough strength to make it through the woods with his parents help. Staying put was out of the question and would end in their eventual deaths.

"Sounds good to me," Joe mumbled. "But can we make it quick. I'm really tired."

Laura looked at her husband whose worried frown mirrored her own. Between the nausea, the vision problems, the sudden sleepiness and the fact that Joe apparently preferred not to open his eyes at all, both were now certain Joe had more than just a mild concussion.


	14. Chapter 14

Thank you MissMe113, Polaris, Helen and pally for the reviews. :-)

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 14**

Sam pulled to a stop in front of the wrought iron gates. Looking up, he was glad to see the camera mounted on the stone wall making continuous sweeps of the surrounding area, confirming the security system had been activated as he had requested. Rolling down the window, he punched in a code on the keypad and then held his palm against a large sensor. Once his identity was confirmed, the large gates opened and he pulled into the circular driveway, watching in the rearview mirror to make sure the gates closed behind him. Coming to a stop in front of the mansion, he parked the car just as Callie and Vanessa began to stir.

"We're here?" Vanessa asked in a sleepy voice, having napped the last two hours of the ride.

"Finally." Sam turned towards the backseat to see if Callie was awake and began to chuckle. She was indeed awake and staring out the window at the huge structure in front of them with her mouth gaping open.

"Wow," Vanessa finally managed, staring in much the same manner as Callie. "This is a safe house?"

"You'd be amazed at the kinds of connections Fenton Hardy has. It would make even the President envious." Sam grinned and got out of the car. Walking to the back of the car, he opened the trunk and unloaded the bags. The girls got out and stretched, looking at their new home, although there was little they could see of the grounds in the middle of the night. As he handed Callie and Vanessa their bags, he began to give them a few rules regarding their temporary stay.

"When we go in, stick close to me until I make sure everything is secure."

"That hasn't been done all ready?" Callie asked.

"Yes, but I just like to double check and see for myself. You can pick whichever rooms you want, but it's best if we stay in the same wing."

"The same _wing_?" Vanessa repeated, as she followed Sam up the front steps. She thought of Joe and wished he were there with her, knowing he'd get a thrill out of exploring the large house and expansive grounds.

Sam opened the door and stepped inside a large foyer. Off to the right was a large room with two fireplaces, each with their own seating area. To the left was what appeared to be a library, with another fireplace, several comfortable couches, chairs and loveseats. Each wall had a built in floor to ceiling bookcase that were filled with books. A dimly lit corridor was straight ahead of them, next to a huge staircase leading to the next level of the mansion.

Keeping the girls close to him, Sam checked both the sitting room and the library, then started down the long hallway that ended in a huge kitchen. To the left of the kitchen was a large formal dining room and to the right was a smaller, cozier version of the same thing. Again, he checked both rooms then walked through the kitchen into a pantry that led out into the backyard and gardens.

Circling through the smaller dining room, Sam led the way back into the sitting room and through another doorway. Flipping on the light, Callie and Vanessa found themselves in what looked like a mini movie theater. A huge screen hung from one wall with theater style seating in front of it, although it appeared much more plush than what was found in the average theater.

The other half of the room was taken up with the largest flat screen t.v. Vanessa thought she'd ever seen in her life. A selection of several hundred DVD's was nestled underneath the screen. Surround sound speakers hung from every wall and various game controllers could be seen neatly laid out on a table next to the television.

"If Joe ever saw this room he'd never leave," Vanessa smiled. "He'd be in video game heaven."

Well aware of Joe's passion for video games of every kind, Sam laughed agreeably. "Never mind all the sports he could watch on the big screen. You'd never see him again, Vanessa. And just wait 'til you see the next room."

Continuing on through the next doorway, the three stopped on the threshold of a game room. Two pool tables, several arcade games, an air hockey table, a skee ball game, a state of the art sound system complete with a huge selection of CD's and a bar with a small seating area filled the room.

"If I'd known this is what a safe house was like, I would have asked for protective custody a long time ago," Callie joked.

"Believe me, this is one of a kind. I think we've only used this house once before when a good friend of Fenton's and mine was being stalked by a serial killer. Not everybody gets this kind of treatment. Shall we check out the upstairs?" Sam gestured towards the doorway.

"Do we get a map of the house?" Vanessa joked. "I know I'm gonna get lost!"

"I did the first few times I was here," Sam told her leading the way back into the foyer and up the stairs. At the top of the stairs long, wide corridors led off in opposite directions. "East wing or west?" Sam asked.

"Oh, west wing, definitely," Callie replied.

They followed Sam down the corridor to the right where he passed a door on the left, stopping at the next one, which was on the right side of the hall. "I'll take the first room," Sam explained gesturing to the one they had just passed and then swept his arm across the hall in front of them. "You can take any of these. They all have king size beds, a fireplace, private bath with Jacuzzi, sitting area, a desk and computer and balconies looking out over the front or back gardens."

"Um, okay," Vanessa replied, a little stunned. "I guess I'll take this one." She pointed off to the right.

"And I'll take this one." Callie gestured to the room a little further down on the left.

"Great. Listen, I know it's the middle of the night, but after you put your bags away I need to talk to you for a minute before you turn in, okay?" Sam requested.

"Sure. Should we come to your room?"

"Please." He watched as the girls each headed into their own rooms. Turning back down the hall, he walked to his room and opened the door, placing his overnight bag on a valet next to the dresser. He'd unpacked a few things when Callie and Vanessa appeared in the doorway. Motioning towards the seating area they all sat down. Leaning forward, Sam rested his elbows on his knees and looked directly at Vanessa.

"Vanessa, there's something I need to tell you. But before I do, I want you to know this was all _my_ idea. Frank wanted to tell you right away but I talked him out of it. So if you need to be mad at someone, it should be me."

Vanessa glanced at Callie getting a very bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. She nodded in response, indicating Sam should continue.

"Frank found some evidence that leads us to believe Joe may have been hurt when he was ambushed. I'm sorry we didn't tell you before this but I was honestly afraid if you knew you wouldn't leave Bayport."

Vanessa looked at Sam angrily but didn't say a word to him. Instead, she turned to Callie. "Did you know about this?" she asked stonily.

"Not until right before we left. I'm sorry, Van." Callie shrugged apologetically. "But would you have left if you knew?"

Keeping a tight reign on her emotions and her anger, Vanessa turned back to Sam, ignoring Callie's question. "Does he have any idea how badly Joe was hurt?"

"No, not really."

"What evidence did Frank find to make him think that?" Vanessa pressed, determined to get every piece of information she could now that Sam had decided to come clean with her.

"There were drops of blood on the grass and on Joe's car."

"Anything else?" Vanessa asked getting the distinct feeling Sam was still holding something back.

Looking down at the floor, Sam took a deep breath. He had hoped Vanessa would just take his word for it and not ask for details but he knew now she wouldn't let him get away with anything other than the complete truth.

"He found a baseball bat hidden in the underbrush. It had blonde hair and blood on the end of it."

Vanessa closed her eyes for a moment, her lower lip trembling.

"Van?" Callie said softly. "Are you okay?"

There were several tense seconds before Vanessa opened her eyes looking first at Callie then at Sam. She nodded once in response to Callie's query, then stood and strode quickly out of the room without uttering a word.

oooOOOooo

Sitting on the floor of his office, surrounded by sheets of paper with meticulously mapped out plots of land encompassing the heavily wooded area just past Hunter's Crossing, Frank was thoroughly engrossed in his task. Having spent several hours on the Internet submerging himself in details of the area where Joe had been ambushed, Frank had then divided the dense forest into equal sections in preparation for the next day's search. He had contacted Chet Morton, a childhood friend of his and Joe's, who promised to get in touch with the others in their close circle of friends for a meeting at the Morton farm the next morning. Frank was preparing all the information they would need, not wanting to waste time in getting started on the search for Joe and his parents.

Having grown accustomed to the silence of the night, Frank jumped when his cell phone rang at three a.m. Checking the caller ID, he answered immediately.

"Sam?"

"We're here," Sam said, easing Frank's nerves slightly. "Any word from Jarrell?"

"He called earlier. He said I'd get instructions in the morning. He also said if I don't follow them to the letter, Joe will die a very slow and painful death while my parents watch," Frank answered, the threat still haunting him.

"It'll never get that far, Frank. You'll find them. Did you call your friends?"

"I called Chet. He was going to call the rest of the guys and we're going to meet at the Morton farm at eight tomorrow morning."

"Have you gotten any sleep?"

"Don't have time. I need to map out that whole area before morning. None of us is familiar with it. This whole thing obviously has something to do with my testimony. That means I only have two days to find them."

"Frank, you're already going on two days with no sleep," Sam argued. "You don't want to make a mistake because you're too tired to see straight."

"Did you tell Vanessa yet?" Frank changed the subject without commenting.

Sam sighed, knowing that meant the subject was closed. "Yeah. She wasn't too happy."

"What did she say?"

"Not much actually. She's pretty ticked off at me. I'm hoping she'll understand once she sleeps on it."

"I hope so." Frank felt a twinge of guilt at deceiving her. "Can I talk to Callie?"

"Sure." Sam hesitated a moment. "Frank, promise me you'll try and get some sleep tonight. I know you're on a tight deadline, but you can't help Joe and you're parents if you're exhausted."

"I'll try," Frank promised.

"Okay. Hold on, I'll get Callie."

After speaking with Callie for a few moments, Frank spoke to Sam one more time. Sam told Frank they would now stay out of contact until they heard from him letting them know it was safe to communicate once more. Hanging up the phone, Frank stared at it for several moments, now feeling truly and completely alone.

Going downstairs to the kitchen, Frank poured himself another cup of coffee and returned to the project at hand. An hour and a half later, when Frank was satisfied he had covered every last detail, he finally headed to bed for a few hours of restless sleep. When the alarm sounded at seven o'clock Frank felt as if he'd barely been asleep for a few minutes, instead of the three hours he'd managed to squeeze in.

He quickly showered and dressed then went downstairs to the kitchen. Putting on a fresh pot of coffee, Frank walked out to the foyer and opened the front door. Stepping out onto the porch, he picked up the paper lying there and straightened up. Turning back to the door, he stopped and stared at a large manila envelope sticking out of the mailbox. Retrieving the envelope, Frank went back inside and sat on the couch. Dropping the paper on an end table, he opened the envelope and pulled out the contents – a handwritten note and several neatly typewritten pages.

The note was from Jarrell instructing Frank to memorize the attached pages, as they contained the sworn testimony he was to give at the trial the day after tomorrow. If he stuck to the attached statement during questioning, Joe, Laura and Fenton would all be released as soon as his testimony was concluded. Should he choose to tell the truth, however, they would all be killed, starting with Joe.

Tossing the note aside, Frank began to read the prepared statement, suddenly understanding the cliché, _'Stuck between a rock and a hard place.'_ The carefully worded testimony would completely discredit Joe, and allow the entire upper tier and most of the middle level of the terrorist organization to go free. The prosecution would still score a victory by getting convictions within the lowest level of the organization, something Frank knew they would accept rather than face a mistrial.

Feeling sick to his stomach, Frank returned the note and papers to the envelope. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and cradling his head in his hands. If he were to give the testimony Jarrell wanted, the terrorists would go free, he would perjure himself and betray his brother. Should he tell the truth, however, Joe, Laura and Fenton would face certain death.


	15. Chapter 15

Thank you so much for the reviews. They are appreciated very much! :-)

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 15**

Despite his desire to formulate a plan of escape with his father, the concussion Joe had apparently sustained caused him to fall asleep almost immediately. Worried about their son, Laura and Fenton had periodically awakened Joe during the night, much to his dismay, to ensure he was still coherent and alert. As morning dawned cold and damp, Laura sat shivering in her husband's arms, using one of the large towels for warmth.

"Honey, why don't you use one of the blankets?" Fenton urged her. "You're freezing."

"Joe needs them more than I do. I'm fine," Laura insisted.

Glancing over at Joe, who was sleeping on the floor, Fenton noticed he had pushed the blanket that had been covering him onto the floor. Frowning, he realized Joe had done the same thing several times during the night despite the chill in the air.

Noting the look on her husband's face, Laura followed his gaze. Seeing the blanket in a heap on the floor, she crawled the few feet separating her from Joe. Examining him more closely, she thought he looked a little flushed. Gently placing a hand on his forehead so as not to wake him, she frowned and looked at Fenton worriedly. "He's hot. I think he's developed a fever."

As she picked up the blanket and placed it over Joe once again, he began to stir. Feeling the heavy fabric draped over him, Joe pushed it off, grimacing.

"Too hot," he mumbled, opening his eyes just a little. "Water?"

Locating the small plastic bottle, Fenton unscrewed the cap, helping Joe sit up a little more and then held it to his lips. "A little at a time," Fenton warned.

Joe nodded, grimacing at the marching band that seemed to have taken up residence in his head overnight. Taking a small sip, Joe found his stomach was a little more agreeable this morning and helped himself to several more. He eyed his parents through slitted eyes. "Why's it so hot in here?"

"It's not," Laura told him, reaching for one of his hands. "Let me check your wrists. We couldn't get all the dirt out. Some of it was embedded in there pretty good. I'm afraid you might be getting an infection."

Joe pulled his hand back. "I'm fine."

"Let me take your temperature, just in case." Laura searched through the First Aid kit for a thermometer.

"No, I'm fine. Really," Joe protested as Laura came at him with the offending object, which he eyed disdainfully.

She held the thermometer out. "Humor me."

With a resigned sigh, Joe opened his mouth allowing his mother to place the thermometer under his tongue. Seeing his father watching him with a smile, Joe rolled his eyes.

"I saw that," Laura warned him, not taking her eyes off her watch. A minute later, she reached forward and retrieved the thermometer. Checking the reading, she frowned again. "100.6. You do have a slight fever."

"No big deal." Joe brushed it off, then looked at his father sheepishly. "Uh, did we come with any kind of escape plan last night? I can't really remember. My brain isn't working too well this morning."

"Your brain is working just fine," Fenton chuckled. "You fell asleep before we had a chance to talk about it."

"Oh. Sorry."

Just as Fenton was about to voice his suggestion, the door to the basement opened and Jarrell walked in followed by three of his men, two of them each carrying a tray.

"Good morning. I trust you slept well," Jarrell greeted the family cheerfully, ignoring the glare Laura threw at him. At his signal, the first man pulled out a gun, aiming it at Joe. "If you'd be kind enough to stay right where you are, my men will open the door and leave your breakfast."

At Jarrell's signal, one of the men unlocked the cell door and opened it. The two men carrying the trays stepped in and placed the trays on the floor just inside the door. Exiting the cell, the door was locked once again and the four men left without another word.

Fenton walked to the front of the cell and picked up the trays, bringing them back to Joe and Laura. Lifting the cloth napkins covering the trays, Laura saw three bowls of cereal, three plastic spoons, three plastic cups with juice and three small bottles of water. She took a spoon and one of the bowls and then sat down next to Joe.

"Here, you need to eat." She dipped the spoon into the cereal and held it out to him.

"I'm not hungry," Joe replied tiredly. "But I'll take some juice. And water."

Laura looked at her husband and quirked an eyebrow. Joe not hungry?

Fenton shrugged in response, picking up a cup of juice and a bottle of water and handing them to Laura. Returning his gaze to the trays in front of him, Fenton sighed. Jarrell had been smart enough to make sure there was nothing on either tray they could use as a weapon, including the trays themselves, which were cardboard. Picking up a bowl of cereal and a cup of juice, Fenton leaned against the wall next to Joe and began to eat.

"So any ideas?" Joe asked his father as he took a small drink of juice.

"Mmm-hmm," Fenton mumbled, swallowing a mouthful of cereal. "Think you can look deathly ill?" he asked with a grin.

"I think I can handle that," Joe laughed, quickly regretting it as his head protested and his ribs reminded him they were not in the best of shape. "Owww…."

"When they bring us food, there are usually at least three other men with Jarrell," Fenton began. "But when they've checked on us for the final time at night, there's only two guards. We'll have to wait until tonight, but when they come in for that final check, I want you to lay still, look sick. Your Mom will make a big scene about you needing a doctor. Big enough to make them come into the cell to check on you." Fenton looked at Laura who nodded.

"Then we overpower them," Joe finished for him.

"I think you'll need to leave that part to me," Fenton warned, noting Joe didn't seem to be in any condition to overpower a fly at the moment.

"I can do my part," Joe said defensively.

"We'll see." Fenton smiled. "If you're up to it maybe you can use that deadly right hook."

"I'll be up to it. Don't worry." Joe gingerly tried to squeeze his hand into the front pocket of his jeans without having to move.

"Looking for this?" Fenton grinned and held up the knife Laura had retrieved from Joe's pocket the day before.

"How'd you get that?" Joe asked, confused.

"I haven't lived with three detectives all this time and not learned a thing or two about being sneaky," Laura said smugly.

Smiling at his mother, Joe took another drink of juice and closed his eyes, wondering how Vanessa was holding up and hoping she wasn't too worried about him.

oooOOOooo

Vanessa awoke with a start in the unfamiliar room. Looking around, slightly disoriented, the events of the night before slowly came back to her. Sitting up she pulled the covers up to her chin, holding them tightly.

"Joe," she whispered to the empty room. "Please be all right."

A soft knock sounded at the door. "Van?" Callie's muffled voice called her name.

"Come in."

Opening the door, Callie came in and sat down on the edge of the bed, concern in her deep brown eyes. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," Vanessa answered. She'd been so tired upon going to bed, despite how angry she was, Vanessa realized she'd fallen asleep almost immediately and hadn't awakened once during the night, even though she was alone in an unfamiliar house. _'I guess that's progress,'_ she thought, still wishing Joe had been there with her.

"Listen, I'm really sorry about last night," Callie said contritely. "I honestly didn't know about Joe until right before we left, but I guess I still should have told you."

"That's okay." Vanessa waved off the apology. "I understand why you did it even if I didn't like it."

"Thanks. You know, Sam and I talked a little bit last night. You know Frank will find Joe and their parents, right?" Callie said encouragingly. "And when he does, they're going to come straight here. So, this is really the best place for you to be. You'll be seeing Joe before you know it."

Vanessa nodded. "I just hope he's not hurt too badly."

"Are you kidding? Joe is like a cat with nine lives. Plus you know Laura is probably hovering over him driving him crazy. I'm sure he'll be fine. Now, why don't you get dressed and come downstairs. Sam has all ready started making breakfast."

"A guy who cooks?" Vanessa asked, surprised, climbing out of bed and heading for the bathroom.

"Yeah, can you believe it." Callie laughed as she walked to the door. "See you in a few."

oooOOOooo

Frank turned into the long driveway that wound it's way through the Morton farm. Coming to a stop in front of the farmhouse, he was relieved to see the cars of all his friends already there. Gathering up the papers on the seat next to him, Frank got out of the car and climbed the porch steps. Knocking once, he pulled the screen door open and stepped inside.

"Chet?"

"In here," came a reply from the living room.

Rounding the corner into the room, Frank saw his and Joe's four closest friends sprawled on the couch, chairs and floor. Chet Morton, a happy go lucky guy with light brown hair and green eyes who's favorite hobby was eating; Biff Hooper, Joe's wise-cracking best friend, who stood several inches taller than Frank's own 6'1" frame, had blonde hair, blue eyes and a muscular build even Joe envied; Tony Prito, was slightly shorter than the rest, with an olive complexion, dark hair and matching dark brown eyes; and quiet Phil Cohen, the group's resident computer genius whom Frank was closest to, who had sandy brown hair, hazel eyes and wore wire rimmed glasses.

"Hey, guys, thanks for coming." Frank sat down and laid out the papers on the coffee table in front of him.

"You know you can count on us," Tony said.

"Yes…I do." Frank smiled, looking up for a moment and making eye contact with each of his friends, before turning back to the papers. "Okay, Chet explained what's going on?"

"Yeah. Do you have any idea how bad Joe was hurt?" Biff asked, concerned.

"Unfortunately, no. But they hit him with a bat. God knows what else they used," Frank replied gravely. Shaking off the anxiety that had suddenly sprung up, Frank passed out the maps he'd made a few hours earlier. "We're going back to Hunter's Crossing. That's where they ambushed Joe. I'm sure they're hiding out somewhere in that area. We can follow the ATV tracks and see where they lead. If we don't get lucky with those, we'll split up and each cover a section of the woods." Frank stopped and looked at his friends seriously. "Jarrell plays for keeps. He wants me to lie on the witness stand. He said if I don't he's going to kill Joe and force my parents to watch."

"Uh, uh. No way!" Biff said hotly. "Don't worry, Frank. We'll find them."

"That's what I'm counting on," Frank agreed. "But we only have today and tomorrow and I'm not very familiar with this area. I have no idea how long it's going to take us to search it."

"Then we better get started." Phil stood up clutching a map in his hands, as the others followed suit.

"We have to find them before tomorrow night," Frank said, a hint of fear creeping into his voice. "Otherwise, they're dead."


	16. Chapter 16

Thank you MissMe113, josie, pally, Helen (Glad you're liking Laura. I think she is sadly underused in fanfiction. ), raphfreak, Diane, Alicia and No1butjoe for the reviews! :-)

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 16**

Frank and his friends arrived at Hunter's Crossing by late morning. As the group gathered loosely to wait for Frank's instructions, their eyes were drawn to Joe's car and the smattering of blood that was now clearly visible in the light of day. Silently, Frank led them along the trail of blood in the grass and across the open field coming to a stop at the entrance to the larger dirt path he had happened upon the night before. He pointed to the tracks left by the ATV's.

"We'll follow these and see where they lead. If it's a dead end, we'll split up. We need to be as quiet as possible. I have no idea how many men Jarrell has with him or where they are."

Nodding or murmuring their understanding, the four young men followed Frank down the trail and into the woods, following the tracks. Forty-five minutes later, the group found themselves standing on the edge of a shallow stream.

"Damn," Frank cursed as his eyes followed the vehicles tracks into the water.

"Either they crossed the stream or rode just inside the water's edge so they couldn't be followed," Phil surmised. "What do you want to do now?"

"Let's split up. I'll take this section here and keep walking along the stream. Maybe they came back onto land a little further up and I can pick up the trail again," Frank replied. "Does everyone else know where they're heading?"

After receiving positive responses from all, Frank reminded them to check in on the walkie-talkies every hour or if they found something, but otherwise to remain silent.

"I don't want Jarrell to know we're around. We need the element of surprise." With a final 'good luck' to his friends, Frank headed off, walking along the stream's edge painfully aware of each minute that ticked by. Time was not on his side.

oooOOOooo

Later that afternoon as Joe slept, Laura sat close by keeping a watchful eye on her son. Glancing at the second plastic bag she had tossed outside the cell, she began to have serious doubts about trying to escape.

When Jarrell had sandwiches brought in for lunch, Joe had declared he was hungry enough to eat. He'd barely made it through half a sandwich, however, before becoming violently ill. That, in turn, had intensified the stabbing pain in his ribs, which he'd been unable to keep hidden from his mother. Trying to make him as comfortable as possible, Laura had been relieved when Joe finally drifted off into a restless sleep. Watching him for the past hour, Laura noticed Joe had broken out in a light sweat. Placing her hand gently on his cheek, she realized his temperature had risen.

"I think we should stay," she announced abruptly.

Fenton looked at her, surprised. "What?"

"Joe's getting worse. He shouldn't be moved."

While Fenton had come to that same conclusion earlier, he knew something Laura didn't. When all was said and done, Jarrell would probably free Laura as promised. He might even let Fenton go, but he had no intention of letting Joe leave that cell alive. As far as Jarrell was concerned, betrayal was punishable only by death. No matter how badly Joe was injured or how sick he became, their only chance of getting him out alive was to attempt an escape.

"I can see Joe is getting worse, honey," he said gently. "But we have no choice. Do you honestly think I'd ask him to move in that condition if I thought there was any other way?"

"He's got a severe concussion. The more he moves around, the worse the symptoms will get. God knows how much more damage throwing up has done to his ribs. And his temperature is going up. He needs rest," Laura protested. "I'm sure Frank is already out there trying to find us. Why can't we just wait for him?"

"Laura, if we stay here Jarrell will see to it that Joe gets a permanent rest," Fenton said bluntly. "And I'm sure you're right. Frank has probably already mounted a search for us. But he has no idea where to start looking. We have to at least try and meet him halfway."

"Dad's right." Joe's hoarse voice startled both his parents.

"How do you feel, sweetie?" Laura asked, instantly returning all her attention to Joe.

"Great."

"Didn't we teach you not to lie?" she scolded him with a smile.

Joe grinned and then held his arms out towards his mother. "Can you check these?" he requested indicating the bandages on his wrists. "I think you made them a little too tight."

Laura frowned as she took of Joe's hands. "Do they hurt?"

"A little," Joe admitted, not wanting to tell her how badly the bandages were digging into his skin.

Leaning down, Laura looked closely at Joe's wrist and stifled a gasp. The gauze and tape she had wrapped so loosely was now tightly constricting Joe's wrists, which were swollen and inflamed. Removing the bandages, Laura peered at the deep cuts and lacerations.

"They're infected." Reaching for the First Aid kit, she removed the nearly empty bottle of antiseptic and held it up for Joe to see. "I'm sorry, honey. It's going to hurt."

Joe shrugged and attempted a smile. "Between my head and my ribs, I won't even feel it." He held his arms over the small towel Laura had laid on the floor next to him. "Go ahead."

Looking at Joe apologetically, Laura poured what was left of the antiseptic over the open wounds, cringing at the bubbles and hissing sounds it made when it hit the infected areas. Inhaling sharply, Joe bit back a cry of pain that he was completely unprepared for.

"Joe? Honey? Are you okay?" Laura asked worriedly.

"Fine," Joe managed to choke out, biting his lip.

"I need to bandage them again."

Joe nodded. "Gimme a sec'?" He pulled his hands out of her reach.

As Laura took the needed items out of the plastic box, Fenton knelt down next to Joe, squeezing his shoulder. He'd seen how pale Joe had become despite the feverish flush he'd had all day. "How are you doing, son?"

"I'm okay, Dad. No problem," Joe lied.

In truth, he was burning up, his ribs were sending out waves of searing pain at even the slightest movement, his head was pounding so hard Joe was sure it was about to explode and the pain caused by the antiseptic attacking his now infected wrists had almost made him throw up for the third time. _'All in all not one of my best days,'_ he thought sarcastically. Holding out his arms towards his mother, Joe smiled. "Ready."

Very carefully, Laura put clean bandages on Joe's wounds, wrapping them even more loosely than she had the first time. While Fenton returned the supplies to the First Aid kit, Laura poured some water on a small towel and dabbed at Joe's face in an effort to cool him off.

"Lay back and rest, sweetie. If we're going through with this tonight, you'll need as much sleep as you can get." She threw her husband a piercing look, still not convinced Joe should be moved.

Joe gave a small nod and lay back. Closing his eyes, Joe let his mother take care of him as he fell asleep once more.

oooOOOooo

As darkness descended on the wooded area, Frank, Biff, Tony, Chet and Phil reconvened at Frank's car, their moods as black as the night would soon become. Unable to turn up any sign of Joe or his captors, they agreed to meet again in the morning and resume their search. At Frank's request, Biff drove Joe's car back to Frank's house. Frank then drove him out to the Morton farm where Biff had left his SUV.

"We have to find them tomorrow," Frank said, the tension evident in his voice and on his face.

"Frank, if you were to do what Jarrell asked, what are the chances he'd really let them go?" Biff asked.

Frank stared straight ahead. "I think he'd let Mom go. Dad, maybe. Joe… never."

They drove the rest of the way in silence.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:** FINALLY!!!! Success!! The login glitch has been fixed… for now! Apparently my definition of a 'few minutes' and this site's definition of a 'few minutes' are worlds apart!! LOL!

As always, thank you so much to all who reviewed. :-)

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 17**

Fenton sat next to Joe as he slept. With a knitted brow, he stared at his son's wrists, the redness of his skin in vivid contrast to the stark white of the bandages.

"How did they get infected so quickly?" he mused aloud.

"I don't know," Laura responded. "Normally it should take a few days for an infection to develop. Even with a little dirt still in the wound, his immune system should have…" Her voice trailed off momentarily as she sat back on her heels. "Oh, my God."

"What is it, honey?"

"Joe's spleen has been removed," Laura answered recalling what Dr. Sydney Greene had told them about the emergency measures taken in the operating room to save Joe's life after he had been tortured by Keith Rashman. She turned to her husband, fear in her eyes. "Dr. Greene said they had to remove his spleen or he would have bled to death internally."

"Yes, so?" Puzzled, Fenton didn't understand what that had to do with the current situation. It had taken several months, but other than the scars on his left arm that would be a permanent reminder of his hellish ordeal, Joe had completely recovered from the numerous injuries he had sustained at the hands of Rashman. "She said people could live a perfectly normal life without a spleen."

"She also said they're more susceptible to infection." Laura looked back at Joe. "His body can't fight off this infection on it's own. He needs to be on antibiotics."

Fenton put an arm around his wife and hugged her tightly as they stared at their son. "All the more reason to get out of here tonight. Don't worry, we'll get him out of here and get him whatever he needs. I promise."

As the hours passed Joe became more restless, finally awakening later in the evening. Recalling the disaster eating half a sandwich at lunch had been, Joe passed on the sandwich his mother had saved him for dinner although he did ask for water.

Fenton took the cap off a bottle of water and started to hand it to Joe, only to be stopped by his wife.

"Let me take your temperature first," Laura said, eyeing Joe critically. Before he could protest, Laura was in front of him holding out the thermometer.

Opening his mouth, Joe found he was too hot and tired to care about objecting. A moment later, he watched as Laura checked the reading.

Fenton handed the bottle of water to Joe. "What is it now?"

Laura frowned. "102.6."

Joe took several large gulps of water and then leaned back against the wall, holding the cool bottle against his forehead. "Don't worry, I'll be fine," he mumbled. "How soon before we move?"

Fenton checked his watch. "The guards should be here in about an hour to check on us for the final time tonight."

"Two of them plus Jarrell?" Joe asked, the fever making his memory a little fuzzy.

"No, just the two guards. Jarrell doesn't usually come at night," Fenton answered a little concerned that Joe couldn't remember the details they'd discussed earlier. "Joe, if you're not up to this-"

"I am," Joe replied a little too quickly. "All I have to do is look sick and get off one right hook. Piece of cake." He smiled weakly. "No problem, Dad."

While Fenton had serious doubts about Joe's prediction, he knew they had no other choice and sat back to wait.

Less then an hour later, just as Joe was settling himself into position, they heard a key in the lock. As Fenton held Joe's knife loosely in his hand, he and Laura took their places hovering over Joe. When the two guards entered the room, Laura turned to look at them, panic in her eyes.

"Please help us!" She motioned towards Joe. "I can't wake him up!"

The tall, dark haired guard shrugged as a shorter, red haired man peered through the bars at Joe curiously. "What do you want us to do?"

"He needs a doctor! He won't wake up!" Fenton snapped angrily.

"Please!" Laura wailed. "Please help us! You can't let him die!"

The tall guard looked at his companion. "The boss _does_ want him alive for now. Maybe we can wake him up."

As he inserted the key into the cell door, the shorter man pulled out a gun and waved it at Laura and Fenton. "You two just back up against the wall and don't move or I'll put Blondie out of his misery permanently."

Laura and Fenton did as ordered as the two guards entered the cell and cautiously approached Joe. "Hey!" the red haired man yelled looking down on Joe. "Wake up!" When Joe remained still, the taller man kicked him in the side lightly.

Watching the guard kick Joe, Laura automatically started to move as her mother's primary instinct to protect her children at all costs took over. Feeling a tug on the back of her blouse she came to an abrupt halt, knowing Fenton had pulled her back. Standing helplessly, she glared at the two guards.

Suddenly Joe moved his head and began to mumble incoherently.

"What'd he say?" the first guard asked.

The second man shrugged. "Beats me."

"Hey!" the first man leaned down. "Speak up!" he demanded, slapping Joe on the cheek.

Mustering what little strength he had, Joe lashed out, his right fist a blur, and connected solidly with the man's jaw sending him to the floor in a heap. Joe, however, wasn't able to enjoy his small victory. The sudden movement and jolting stop had sent a wave of pain shooting through his ribs so intense he saw stars. Feeling his head start to swim and his stomach begin to churn, Joe pulled his knees in and curled up in the fetal position, oblivious to the chaos that erupted around him.

'_Don't throw up. Don't pass out.'_ Joe squeezed his eyes shut tightly, repeating the two commands to himself over and over.

While Joe focused all his energy on simply trying to remain conscious, Laura and Fenton sprang into action. The guard Joe had punched was stunned, but not out. As he reached for his gun, Laura picked up the heavy metal bucket off the floor and rushed forward. Bringing her arms back to gain momentum, she swung the bucket forward hitting the man square in the forehead. Raising the bucket for a second blow, she watched as he toppled backwards and lay still on the cement floor.

The second Joe had let loose with a punch, Fenton jumped the other guard, wrapped one arm around his neck and grabbed the man's gun hand with the other. Forcing them against the cement wall, Fenton slammed the man's hand hard into the cement wall repeatedly, until the gun fell from his grasp and clattered to the floor. With one touch the pocketknife flashed open and Fenton pressed it to the man's neck.

Feeling the razor sharp, cold steel against his skin, the man immediately stopped struggling. In one fluid movement, Fenton spun the man around and punched him in the face. The man's head snapped back, hit the wall and he fell to the floor unconscious.

Ripping the towels into several long strips, Fenton and Laura had the two men bound and gagged in minutes. Immediately, Fenton turned his attention to Joe. He leaned over Joe's curled up body, anxiously.

"Joe? Joe, are you all right?"

Through the haze of pain, Joe heard his father's voice. Focusing on the sound, Joe reached out with one hand. "Help…me…up…"

Gritting his teeth, Joe let out one small whimper as Fenton pulled him to a standing position as gently as possible. Holding onto his father, Joe opened his eyes, instantly regretting it as the room started to spin.

Grabbing the last plastic bag from the First Aid kit, Laura held it for Joe as he was sick. Tossing it aside with the others, she wiped his face with a wet towel and looked at her husband with concern. Cautiously opening one eye, Joe saw the exchange between his parents.

"I'm okay, Mom," he croaked hoarsely.

"The hell you are," Laura muttered frustrated at not knowing who to direct her anger at.

"Let's go before anyone comes down to check on them." Fenton nodded at the two men sprawled on the floor.

As Fenton supported Joe, who was leaning heavily against him, Laura picked up the First Aid Kit, two blankets, a few towels and as many bottles of water as she could carry and led them out of the cell. Poking her head out the open door, she signaled that the hall was clear.

When Fenton and Joe stepped out of the room, Fenton noticed a small table set up with snacks, drinks, playing cards and a radio. "Good. They must have been just settling in to watch us for the night. No one will know we're gone until morning."

"Look!" Laura whispered loudly, pointing to a backpack lying on the floor. She grabbed it and stuffed as much of her load into it as possible, and then once again led her husband and son down the hall.

Stopping at an open doorway, she looked inside and her eyes lit up. Smiling, she turned to Fenton and motioned for him to take a look. As he peered into the room, he saw a workbench. Neatly laid out on top of it was an assortment of tools, rope, handcuffs, duct tape, a knife, and several flashlights. Laura swiftly scooped up the rope, handcuffs, duct tape, knife and two flashlights adding them to the backpack.

Continuing on, they came to the end of the hall where Laura cautiously opened the door. Looking up into the darkness, she turned on one of the flashlights and shone it in front of her. Several cement steps led up to two angled wooden doors. Standing in the stairwell, Laura felt a cool breeze and realized the doors led directly outside. They'd been held captive in an old fashioned storm cellar!

Quietly, she crept to the top of the stairs and pushed one of the doors up just enough to look out. Peering around she saw nothing but trees and overgrown vegetation. Motioning for Fenton and Joe to follow, she pushed the door all the way open and climbed out. Placing the backpack and blankets on the ground, she helped Fenton maneuver Joe, who had already become even more unsteady on his feet, through the opening.

Handing the backpack over to Fenton, Laura picked up the blankets and cradled them under one arm. Supporting Joe between them, Laura and Fenton sheltered their son protectively and escaped into the night.


	18. Chapter 18

Thank you SO MUCH for the reviews!! Sorry for the delay. I thought I'd posted this chapter last Friday. Imagine my surprise when I logged on this morning to find I hadn't. Ooops… My bad. :-/

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 18**

With each painful step, Joe wondered if it wouldn't have been preferable to simply lie in the cell waiting for Jarrell to kill him. His ribs were not at all happy with the constant movement and didn't hesitate to let him know it. He refrained from opening his eyes more than a crack as that sent the woods surrounding them into an endless spin cycle. Each crack of a tree branch being stepped on or rustle of a dry leaf sounded like an explosion in his head. Trying not to dwell on his current pathetic state, Joe resumed his two-line mantra.

'_Don't throw up. Don't pass out.'_

Repeating the words over and over to himself, Joe tried to ignore his mother's increasingly heavy breathing. He knew she was quickly tiring from having to support him but without the help of both his parents Joe knew he wouldn't even be able to crawl, let alone walk.

He wasn't sure but in between the endless repetition of those six words, Joe thought they seemed to be slowing down. A moment later, they came to a stop.

"Wha's wrong?" Joe asked his father, slurring his words slightly.

Fenton looked at Joe sharply, not having missed the slurred words. "I'm not exactly sure where we are. I want to stop for a minute and get my bearings. Sit down here with your mother and I'll be right back."

Joe recalled the blinding pain he'd felt the last time he'd been pulled up from a prone position. "No sitting. This s'fine," he slurred once more, leaning against a tree as his parents exchanged a worried glance. Joe didn't even have the energy to protest when his mother placed a hand on his forehead.

"You're burning up."

Pulling the backpack off his shoulder and setting it on the ground, Fenton opened it and took out a small towel and a bottle of water, handing them to his wife.

"Try and keep him cool." He rummaged through the pack again, coming up with a flashlight. Holding it in one hand, he checked to make sure the gun he'd retrieved from the cell floor was still snug in his waistband. "I'll be back in ten minutes," he assured them and then soundlessly melted into the darkness.

…

Almost immediately upon escaping from the storm cellar, Fenton had realized Joe wasn't going to get very far even with his and Laura's help. Quickly formulating another plan, Fenton decided to find shelter for the night. In the morning, he would leave Joe in Laura's care, hidden in the woods, while he went for help. First, however, he wanted to double back to the storm cellar.

When they had initially emerged from their prison, he'd taken a quick look around. Although they'd been surrounded by trees, Fenton thought he had seen the lights of a house through the trees to the west of them. Approaching the doors from which they'd escaped just minutes before, Fenton was glad to see they remained closed. Examining the ground nearby, he saw the only tracks were those left by him, Laura and Joe. Satisfied their disappearance had yet to be discovered, he covered their tracks as best he could and set off through the trees in search of the lights.

A few minutes later, a modern three story, farmhouse came into view. A porch light was on and one was burning in a first floor room, while the rest of the house was dark. Quietly, Fenton crept to the window and peered inside. Seated by the fireplace reading a newspaper was one of the guards who had accompanied Jarrell to their cell at lunchtime. Glancing around the room, he noted it looked more like a tactical command center than a home. _'Their new headquarters.'_

When Frank and Joe had brought down their operation a year earlier, their base had been raided and shut down. Once out on bail, they needed a new location in which to resume their reign of terror while awaiting trial.

Making his way back towards the storm cellar, Fenton realized that must have been where the original farmhouse once stood. The house had been razed but the cellar remained in tact, allowing Jarrell to turn it into a makeshift prison.

Heading northeast through the heavily forested area, it wasn't long before Fenton heard the flowing waters of a stream. Careful to cover his tracks behind him, Fenton made a beeline for the water. Slowly walking along the rocks at the waters edge, he played his flashlight along the trees by the riverbank, finally finding what he'd been searching for.

Several yards above the flowing water, nestled among a stand of trees, was a small open patch of grass, barely visible in the darkness. Approaching the spot, he shined the light overhead seeing a canopy of tree branches obliterating the star filled night sky. Turning in a complete circle, he knew this was the perfect spot.

Once he brought Joe and Laura here, it wouldn't take long for him to lash together some branches and vegetation to create a makeshift covering for the opening that would seamlessly blend into the surrounding foliage. Satisfied that Joe and Laura would be safe there, he set off to retrieve his wife and son.

oooOOOooo

"How long's it be'n?" Joe asked his mother, who was repeatedly wiping his face with a cool, wet towel.

She checked the luminous dial on Joe's watch. "Twelve minutes."

"Said he' be back n'ten."

Laura winced at Joe's slurred vocabulary. "It's dark and he's in unfamiliar territory. Let's give him a few more minutes before we start to worry."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Fenton said having returned without making a sound.

Joe looked at his father through half opened eyelids. "Whadja find out?"

"They won't know we're gone until morning." He explained about the farmhouse where Jarrell had set up his new base of operations. "I found a place we can take shelter for the night," he finished not wanting to reveal the rest of his plan just yet. While Fenton was certain Laura would agree to it wholeheartedly, he knew Joe would put up a fight, insisting his mother would be in danger having to watch over him alone in the woods.

Once again supporting Joe between them, Laura and Fenton set off in the direction Fenton indicated. Joe began to stumble more frequently despite his parents' tight hold on him, further reinforcing the fact that Fenton had made the right decision. Arriving at the spot he'd chosen, Fenton pointed out the stream to Laura as they passed by it.

While Laura set about trying to make Joe as comfortable as possible, Fenton began the task of making a covering for the small entrance to their hideout. Once completed, Fenton turned to his wife and son.

"Try to get some sleep. I'll keep watch for Jarrell's men just in case."

"Wake me up when 's my turn," Joe mumbled. The short trek through the woods having exhausted him, Joe was already drifting off to sleep despite the throbbing in his head and pain in his ribs and wrists.

"I will." Fenton agreed only to appease Joe, having no intention of doing any such thing.

Crawling under the makeshift covering of a blanket and some towels, Laura carefully put her arms around Joe. The temperature had already dropped and she wanted to make sure Joe was warm during the night, despite his fever that seemed to be rising by the minute.

Throughout the night, Joe's condition seemed to deteriorate. He tossed and turned sometimes mumbling incoherently. By daybreak he was restless, pushing the covers aside, now drenched in sweat. When he awoke momentarily, Laura took advantage of the opportunity to check his temperature once again, shocked to see a reading of 104.5. Pulling up the sleeves of Joe's shirt, Laura took one look at his wrists and let out a gasp.

"What?!" Fenton asked anxiously. As Laura gingerly held up one of Joe's arms, Fenton paled slightly. "Oh, no."

Bright red streaks now marred Joe's forearms snaking out from under the bandages on his wrists and slowly heading towards his elbows – the first sign of a deadly systemic infection.

Tears brimming in her bright blue eyes, Laura looked at her husband helplessly. "Without antibiotics he could-"

Reaching out, Fenton gently cupped his wife's distraught face in his hands. "I _will_ get him out of here today. I promise," he said forcefully. "Joe is _not_ going to die."

Knowing that time was now even more critical, Fenton turned his attention to the backpack. Searching through it, he gathered up the few items he would need, explaining his plan to a very relieved Laura. She had not wanted Joe to be moved again and thought it would be a battle to convince her husband.

Standing up, Fenton pocketed Joe's knife, hefted a length of rope over his shoulder and picked up one bottle of water.

"Keep two bottles of water for drinking," he instructed. "If you need more water to keep Joe cool, go down to the stream and fill a bottle, but only if it's absolutely necessary. It's best if you don't leave this shelter at all. And stay quiet. Jarrell's men will be crawling all over the place in a little while."

As if in protest to his father's plan, Joe moaned loudly in his sleep causing Fenton to frown. If that were to happen while one of Jarrell's men were passing by Joe and Laura were sure to be discovered.

"Shh, Baby," Laura said, her voice low. She nodded at her husband's instructions as she watched him pull the gun from his waistband and offer it to her.

"No, I don't want that." Laura shook her head adamantly. She had learned how to use a gun should she ever need to defend herself and practiced regularly on the firing range. However, she'd never had to put those skills to use and had no desire to start now.

"Laura," Fenton began patiently. "What are you going to do if Jarrell's men find you?" He eyed their son who was now restlessly alternating between a fever-induced sweat and bone jarring chills. "Joe can't help you. How will you protect yourself? How will you protect _Joe_?"

Glancing at Joe, Laura realized he was right. Reluctantly she accepted the gun knowing if it came right down to it, she wouldn't hesitate to use it to protect her child. Standing on tiptoe, she kissed her husband on the cheek. "Hurry back," she whispered and watched as he disappeared through the makeshift covering.

Sitting down against the trunk of a large tree, Laura held the gun in one hand and Joe's hand in the other, then she settled in to wait.


	19. Chapter 19

To pally, No1butjoe, MissMe113 and whashaza – thank you for the reviews! :-)

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 19**

"We have to find them today," Frank told his friends worriedly. "I testify tomorrow. By then it will be too late."

Standing in a loose semi-circle Biff, Chet, Tony and Phil clearly understood the gravity of the situation. Frank's _'I-can-handle-anything'_ façade was starting to crack under the strain of trying to find his family.

"Then we won't leave these woods without them," Biff said resolutely. "Right, guys?"

A chorused response of "Right!", "You bet!", and "Absolutely!" echoed through the trees, bringing a tiny smile to Frank's face.

"Thanks. Okay, just like yesterday. We check in every hour or if we find something." He held up his walkie-talkie. "Let's go."

oooOOOooo

Just as Fenton had predicted, Laura heard Jarrell's men pass by with frightening regularity. At times they sounded so close she held her breath, certain they could hear her shallow inhale and exhale. As the morning dragged on, Joe lapsed in and out of periods of heavy sleep. When awake, he constantly complained of being too hot and extremely thirsty. Although he was no longer throwing up the water Laura gave him, Joe still never seemed to be able to get enough. Laura tried to keep him cool with wet compresses, but it appeared to be a losing battle. Joe was now sleeping for longer periods of time, only to awaken deliriously talking to Frank or Vanessa before realizing where he was.

By late morning, Joe was sleeping so heavily Laura was convinced he'd fallen into short periods of unconsciousness. It took much longer for him to awaken and he moaned painfully as he did so, with Laura speaking softly to him in an effort to keep him quiet. As Joe began to awaken from yet another fitful bout of sleep, he moaned, thrashing from side to side. At the same instant, Laura heard the crackle of a walkie-talkie just beyond the entrance to the shelter as someone came to a sudden stop. Clamping a hand over Joe's mouth, Laura held her breath willing the intruder to keep moving. A bolt of fear swept through her as she saw the cover of the entrance start to move.

Knowing she needed the element of surprise, Laura held tightly to the gun in her hand and stood up. With a final glance at Joe, she slipped behind the large tree, which easily obscured her petite frame. Looking down at the gun she held, Laura noticed a large branch lying on the ground at her feet. Cautiously peeking around the tree, she saw the interloper was having a little trouble gaining entrance giving her time to shove the gun in her waistband and pick up the branch.

Hearing the sharp rustle of branches, Laura chanced another look and saw the man who had kicked Joe in the ribs advancing on her son with a sadistic smile. As he raised the walkie-talkie to his lips, Laura emerged from hiding. Swinging the branch with all the strength she had, Laura struck a clean blow across the back of his head. The tall, dark haired thug collapsed against the tree, striking his head on the trunk and again on a root sticking up out of the ground.

Hovering over him with the branch poised and ready for a second blow, Laura waited, but he never moved. Giving him a slight kick in the ribs, he made no sound. Satisfied he was unconscious, she grabbed the backpack, dumping the supplies she'd stolen from the workbench onto the grass. Looking from her new captive to the assortment of supplies on the ground, Laura frowned. She wanted to ensure that she bound him tightly enough that he couldn't possibly get free should he awaken before Fenton returned. Biting her lip in concentration, she made her decision and plucked the needed items from the grass.

Beginning with his hands, Laura bound them securely behind the man. Moving on, she secured his feet in a similar fashion. Not wanting him to be able to yell for help if he regained consciousness, she decided to gag him and then finished with a blindfold.

'_Just to add insult to injury,'_ she thought smugly.

Confident that he wouldn't be able to free himself if he woke up, Laura once again took up her position next to Joe. She placed the gun back on the ground next to her and held Joe's hand, a little more confident in her ability to protect her son from anyone else intent on doing him harm.

oooOOOooo

As noon approached, Frank crouched at the edge of the stream splashing cool water on his face. Right on schedule, his walkie-talkie squawked to life.

"Chet, checking in."

Shaking his head from side to side to rid himself of the excess water, Frank patted his face dry with the bottom edge of his t-shirt. Picking up the walkie-talkie, he pressed a button. "Find anything?" he asked, hopefully.

"No, but have you noticed a lot of activity out here today?"

"Sure have," Frank replied the smile evident in his voice.

"Me too," Biff chimed in. "Why so happy about it?"

"Yeah, doesn't that make our job all that much harder?" Tony queried.

Before Frank could respond, he heard Phil's voice and from his tone, Frank knew he had figured out it out too.

"Nope. Not at all," Phil replied happily.

"How so?" Tony demanded. "This place is crawling with men."

"Those are Jarrell's men," Phil said.

"Which means Joe and my parents have escaped," Frank explained with relief.

"Then what are we waiting for?!" Chet asked impatiently. "Let's find 'em!"

With a click of the button Chet was gone leaving all of them certain the Hardys would be found before dusk.


	20. Chapter 20

Thank you to MissMe113, pally, No1butjoe, Alicia, Nicole, josie, whashaza and Polaris for the reviews. :-)

In honor of your new computer, Polaris, here's a new chapter!

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 20**

Buoyed by the prospect that Joe and their parents had escaped from Jarrell, Frank resumed his search with renewed vigor. He soon realized, however, that Tony's prediction was correct. With Jarrell's men also searching the woods Frank found his progress was slowed considerably. He frequently had to give up walking along the stream's edge and take cover among the trees when one of Jarrell's men approached.

During one of these side trips, Frank noticed a trail of trampled grass leading a little deeper into the woods. Walking further along, he noticed broken branches, trampled grass and footprints in the soft earth. Crouching down, Frank's practiced eye picked up three more sets of footprints, one set smaller than the other two. All had been purposely obscured. Hoping he'd stumbled onto his father's handiwork, Frank followed the tracks with rekindled hope.

oooOOOooo

Checking her watch, Laura couldn't help but worry. It had been hours since Fenton had set out to get help and she was wondering if he'd indeed be able to keep his promise to get Joe out of the woods today.

"Mom," Joe rasped softly, "is Dad back yet?"

Laura smiled at him to hide her worry. "Not yet, honey, but he'll be back soon. Can I check your temperature again?"

Joe smiled and gave a small nod in response. As Laura pulled the thermometer from his mouth a moment later, she expertly kept her fear hidden.

"Higher?" Joe asked.

"Nope, no change," Laura lied with a smile, cringing inside at the 105.6 reading. Glancing down, her fear grew as she noted the red streaks had now progressed halfway up Joe's arms.

She sat next to Joe who had given himself up to sleep again._ 'Hurry, Fenton.' _She took Joe's hand in hers and he moved his head in her direction, letting out a soft moan.

"Shhh," Laura whispered. "Dad will be back soon with help." Staring at her youngest son with increasing concern, she heard a twig snap close by and cursed silently when the covering began to move.

Getting to her feet, she reached for her makeshift weapon and retreated to the hiding place she had found earlier. A moment later she peeked out and saw a dark haired figure, his back to her, crouching down next to Joe. Swiftly, Laura emerged from her hiding place and swung the heavy branch aiming for the intruder's head.

Instinctively, he spun around and stood to face her. Surprise registered on his face seconds before he caught the branch in his hands and snatched it away. He threw it to the ground stopping the sneak attack and leaving Laura – and Joe – helpless.

With a gasp, Laura reeled back a few steps. Both hands flew to her mouth as she stifled a scream. For one split second the world stood still as protective mother and suspected assailant stared at each other in utter shock. Regaining her senses, Laura threw herself at the young man.

"Oh! Oh my God! Oh, Frank! I almost hit you!!" she cried out, hugging him.

Frank returned the tight embrace. "It's okay, Mom."

"I'm so sorry, honey!"

"I'm not." Frank pulled away and smiled down at his mother. "At least I know Joe's been well protected." Frank knelt down next to his brother, placed a hand on his forehead and gasped. "Mom, he's burning up!"

"I know," Laura responded, worried. "And he's getting worse."

Joe moaned at the sound of voices and slowly opened his eyes. Through slightly blurred vision he saw his older brother leaning over him, a concerned look on his face.

"Fr'nk," Joe said quietly although it took some effort, "get Mom outta here."

Frank glanced at his mother and rolled his eyes in spite of the situation. "Did you hear that?" he asked with a wry smile.

"Yes, I did," Laura replied, touched. As sick as he was Joe was more worried about his mother than himself.

Frank looked down at his brother. "How about if I get both of you out of here, huh, buddy?"

"That'd be good, too." Joe said weakly, closing his eyes again.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Frank patted Joe's shoulder then stood, surveying his surroundings.

It was only then that he noticed the rather large, unconscious man lying a few feet away. Slowly approaching him to get a closer look, Frank's eyes widened in shock. The man's hands and feet had been handcuffed, tied with rope _and_ covered with duct tape. His mouth held a piece of ripped towel as a gag, secured with more duct tape. His eyes were covered with another piece of the towel, apparently serving as a makeshift blindfold, which was also covered with several layers of the now familiar duct tape.

"Uh, Mom?" Frank asked, amused.

Laura looked up. "Yes?"

Frank waved a hand over the captive man. "Did you do this?"

"Yes," she said defensively. "I wanted to make sure he couldn't escape or call for help if he came to. I didn't want him to hurt Joe and I certainly wouldn't be able to fight him off."

Frank shook his head and chuckled softly. _'You didn't stand a chance, pal.' _

"Good thinking."

Returning to his mother's side, Frank knelt down next to her, looked at his battered younger brother and cringed. "How bad is he?"

"Concussion, definitely. Probably some broken ribs. But I'm more concerned about the infection." Laura pointed to the bandages around Joe's wrists and the bright red streaks running up his forearms. "They tied his hands so tightly the rope made deep cuts in his skin. Then they dragged him through the dirt. It got embedded in the wounds…" Laura stopped and squeezed her eyes shut as her voice began to quiver.

Frank put an arm around his mother drawing her close, anger building at the men who had attacked Joe.

"And now he has the beginnings of a systemic infection. When they removed his spleen in Chicago, it weakened his immune system. He can't fight off the infection on his own." She sniffled and turned to her older son, desperation in her eyes. "He needs antibiotics, Frank. If he doesn't get them soon he'll die."

Frank stared at Joe in stunned shock, unable to believe Keith Rashman's abuse was still having such serious repercussions for Joe. Would it ever end? Or would Joe be haunted by it for the rest of his life?

The unquenched thirst for revenge Frank hadn't felt in months briefly bubbled to the surface. As always when that happened, Frank cursed himself for not doing away with Rashman when he had the opportunity. It wouldn't change what he had done to Joe, but it might have been able to give his brother – and himself – some closure; something Frank wasn't sure Joe would ever have.

'_Not now!'_ Frank admonished himself, pushing the hatred back down. He needed to focus all his attention on getting Joe to safety and on the medication he needed. He couldn't do that if he was distracted with vengeful thoughts of Keith Rashman.

Frank stood, eyeing the meager supplies as he tried to decide the best way to transport Joe out of the woods.

"I take it he can't walk under his own power," Frank commented.

"No," Laura responded softly.

"How many blankets do you have?" Frank asked as an idea began to take shape.

Laura watched Frank wander around the small encampment eyeing the vegetation, obviously looking for something specific. "Two."

"Any rope left?" He bent down to examine a long, sturdy branch.

"Yes." Laura pulled it out of the backpack.

"Good." Frank absently poked further into the underbrush and came up with a second branch similar in size and shape. Walking back to his mother, he took the rope she offered. "I can rig up a makeshift stretcher to carry him out on."

"Um…okay," Laura said hesitantly. She recalled how physically draining it was to support Joe when he was upright and attempting to walk on his own. She wasn't sure how long she'd be able to carry half his body weight without collapsing.

"Don't worry, Mom." Frank held up the walkie-talkie. "I'll radio one of the guys for help."

"Your friends are here?" Laura asked, surprised.

"Yeah, you didn't think I'd try and take on Jarrell alone did you?" Frank asked dryly. "That's something Joe would do."

"He'rd that," Joe mumbled, having momentarily reawakened. "Don' need a stretcher. I can walk. Jus' help me," he protested his brother's plan.

"Sure you can, bro," Frank humored him. "Go back to sleep. I'll let you know when it's time to leave."

"C'n too walk…" Joe insisted stubbornly as his eyes slid shut.

"He can't stay awake very long anymore," Laura said worriedly, hovering over him.

"Don't worry, Mom. We'll get him out of here," Frank reassured her as he laid out the blankets, branches and rope in front of him.

Picking up the walkie-talkie, he pressed a button and spoke. "Biff, come in."

He'd purposely given Biff the area closest to himself to cover, knowing in the back of his mind he might need help getting Joe out of there. He waited a few seconds then pressed the button again.

"Biff? You out there?" The ominous silence was the only response. "Biff?" He tried one more time with no success.

Staring at the walkie-talkie as if it could tell him what had befallen his friend, he didn't want to acknowledge the obvious. Had Biff been captured by Jarrell's men?


	21. Chapter 21

To No1butjoe, MissMe113, Polaris, Miss Fenway, Nicole, whashaza, pally and Helen – thank you so much for reviewing! :-) Hope you continue to enjoy the story.

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 21**

Fenton Hardy crept noiselessly through the thick vegetation. It was obvious their escape had been discovered given the number of Jarrell's men who were searching the woods. They'd passed by him several times and once he'd almost been found. Checking the time, Fenton frowned. Having to avoid Jarrell's search party had cost him precious time. He'd hoped to have gotten Joe to safety by now, yet still hadn't even found his own way out of the woods yet.

Wondering how Joe was doing and worrying about what the slow progress would mean to his deteriorating condition, Fenton almost didn't hear the approaching figure until it was too late. Looking around desperately he saw nowhere to hide. In a last ditch effort he looked up and smiled grimly. With a small vertical jump, Fenton grabbed a low branch of the tree next to him and pulled himself up. Standing, he balanced on the branch, hidden from view.

Unable to see the figure until it stopped directly below him, Fenton swore under his breath. The younger, blonde haired man looked quite a bit larger and more muscular than he was.

'_Keep moving,'_ Fenton urged silently, becoming more frustrated when the man pulled a snack bar from his pocket and sat down at the base of the tree.

The young man checked his watch, then peeled back the wrapper and took a bite. Looking at his own watch, Fenton realized he didn't have time to wait for Jarrell's thug to finish his snack. Every second he waited was a second Joe's condition worsened.

Bending his knees slightly, Fenton took a breath and launched himself out of the tree, landing directly on top of the startled man. Having the element of surprise didn't work as well as Fenton had hoped, though, as the man expertly flipped Fenton onto his back. Pinning him down with one hand, he made a fist with the other and cocked it back, prepared to launch what was certain to be a knockout blow. In the one instant before he delivered the punch, the young man took a good look at his captive and his eyes widened in shock.

"Mr. Hardy?!" Biff Hooper exclaimed.

"Biff?" Fenton replied equally surprised.

"Oh, man I'm so sorry." Biff quickly scrambled up off his best friend's father. Reaching out, he helped Fenton to his feet.

Fenton smiled. "Hey, you were only defending yourself. But thanks for not following through. I'd hate to be punched out by an amateur boxer."

Biff shrugged sheepishly, before turning serious. "Where's Joe? And Mrs. Hardy? Oh man, I need to check in with Frank." He looked around for his walkie-talkie, which he'd apparently lost in the struggle.

"Uh-oh." Fenton pointed to a smashed piece of plastic on the ground. "Sorry."

Biff winced for a moment, which was quickly replaced by his good-natured grin. "All in the line of duty. So where is Joe?"

"This way," Fenton pointed, turning serious. "He's hurt pretty badly. We need to get him out of here as soon as possible. I'll explain as we go. We don't have any time to waste."

oooOOOooo

Frank looked up, meeting his mother's eyes.

"He's not answering?" Laura asked worriedly.

"No." Frank frowned. Pressing the button again he spoke into the mouthpiece. "Chet? Tony? Phil?"

"Yeah." "Right here." "Find something?" The three replies came in quick succession.

"I found Joe and my Mom. But we seem to have lost Biff. Has anyone heard from him?"

A swift chorus of _"No"_ only reinforced Frank's anxiety. Hating himself for it, Frank momentarily pushed thoughts of Biff aside as he realized his first priority had to be getting Joe to safety. Biff would have to wait.

"Okay. Maybe he's just having trouble with his walkie-talkie," Frank said hopefully. "In the meantime I need help getting Joe out of here. He can't walk on his own. Tony? Chet? Can you guys meet me here and help me carry him out? I'm rigging up a stretcher. Should be finished by the time you guys get here."

"Yup, just tell us where to meet you," Chet replied immediately.

"Will do in a second. Phil, can you go back to the cars and wait for us? We should be out in an hour – hour and a half tops. If we're not out by then, call the police."

"Got it. I'm out." Phil signed off.

After relaying his position to Tony and Chet, they all signed off and Frank turned to the task of creating a stretcher, while Laura tended to Joe. Approximately thirty minutes later, Frank heard the sound of a birdcall that repeated itself two more times. Frank responded in kind and moved towards the entrance of the small hideout. Pushing it aside, he poked his head out and saw Chet and Tony emerge from the trees. To his surprise, Fenton and Biff were right behind them.

"Look who we met on the way," Chet smiled, maneuvering his large frame through the opening as Frank returned to his brother's side. "Oh, wow." His tone dropped considerably as he saw Joe lying on the ground, eyes closed and flushed with fever.

"Hi, Dad," Frank said calmly, his voice belaying the relief shining brightly in his eyes.

Dropping down next to Frank, Fenton squeezed his shoulder and smiled before turning his attention to Joe. "Any change?"

"His temperature has gone up and the infection is getting worse," Laura replied. Now that help had arrived and she was no longer solely responsible for Joe's survival, her tough exterior was starting to unravel.

As Frank put the final knots in the stretcher he'd made, he explained to his father how Jarrell had attempted to blackmail him into lying on the witness stand. "I think we're ready," he announced, standing up. "Biff?" He pointed to the stretcher, raising his eyebrows. "If it can hold you, we'll know it's safe for Joe."

Biff rapidly scrambled onto the blankets and lay down. Tony, Chet, Frank and Fenton each took hold of a corner and lifted. While the blankets sagged slightly under Biff's weight, they held steady.

"Goo," Fenton said as they placed Biff back on solid ground. "Let's get him out of here."

Frank knelt down beside his brother and gently touched his shoulder. "Joe? Come on, wake up, buddy. It's time to go."

Opening his eyes, Joe glanced around and saw his friends. "Hey, guys."

Each of the boys returned the greeting, all a little spooked at seeing their friend so banged up and ill.

"Joe, we have to move you onto the stretcher," Frank explained.

"Okay." Joe acknowledged, inwardly steeling himself for the pain he knew it would cause.

Laura stepped back as Chet, Biff, Tony and Frank each took up positions on either side of Joe.

"On three," Fenton said, watching Joe's face carefully. "One, two, three."

As smoothly as possible, they lifted Joe off the ground and carefully placed him on the blankets. In spite of their efforts to keep him as still as possible, Joe hissed in pain. As they laid him on the stretcher Joe grabbed Frank's arm and held it tightly, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Give him a second," Frank ordered as the boys reached down to hoist the stretcher off the ground. He had correctly read Joe's signal that he needed a moment to recover before being moved again. When Joe's grip on his arm loosened, Frank asked if he was ready to continue. After getting a brief nod from Joe, Fenton counted again and they lifted the stretcher off the ground.

With Laura and Fenton keeping a close eye on Joe, the group trekked through the woods, making slow but steady progress. Each little bump turned into a new experience in pain for Joe, although he repeatedly refused offers to stop and rest. Focusing on his parents' words of encouragement, he insisted they keep moving.

Fifteen minutes into their journey Fenton held up a hand, bringing them to a halt. Cocking his head to one side he listened intently, hearing the faint echo of voices heading in their direction. With nowhere to seek shelter he realized a diversion was needed or Jarrell's men would quickly catch up with them.

Before he could formulate a plan, Laura spoke up in a harsh whisper. "Your father and I will act as decoys. We'll lead them off that way," she pointed to the north, "so you'll have time to escape."

Knowing they had no choice, Fenton agreed and turned to Frank. "If we're not already at the cars when you arrive, don't wait. Leave without us."

"But, Dad-" Frank began to protest, not wanting to leave his parents at the mercy of Jarrell.

"No!" Fenton snapped at his son, his voice quickly softening. "I'm counting on you to get your brother out of here. Please, Frank, don't argue with me. Just do as I ask."

Frank looked from his father to his mother, who nodded encouragingly.

"Yes, sir," Frank replied quietly.

Leaning down, Laura kissed Joe and whispered in his ear before standing on tiptoe to give Frank a kiss on the cheek. "We'll be fine," she smiled at him. "You just take care of Joe."

Frank nodded silently at his parents, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. "Let's go," he said to his friends, his voice tight with restrained emotion. Frank knew if his parents weren't waiting by the cars with Phil when they emerged from the woods, he'd never see them alive again.


	22. Chapter 22

Thank you so, so much to No1butjoe, Polaris, Miss Fenway, josie, Helen and MissMe113 for the reviews. :-)

Thank you to all who are reading. Hope you are enjoying the story.

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 22**

As the boys journeyed through the woods, Frank tried to focus on Joe and getting him out – something he had control over – rather than on his parents, something over which he had no control. Twice they had to circumvent Jarrell's men costing them time, much to Frank's dismay. He'd taken up a position at the back of the stretcher, wanting to keep a close eye on his brother. Although Joe never said a word, Frank could tell the small, but constant motion of the stretcher as they walked, was getting to him as evidenced by the frequent grimaces. Just when Frank thought they'd have to stop and give Joe time to recover from the continuous jarring, they finally emerged from the woods.

Immediately, Frank looked around scanning the area around the cars. With a heavy heart, he saw no sign of his parents, although he clearly heard their voices echoing in his head.

'_I'm counting on you…Just take care of Joe…' _

Swallowing back tears, he squared his shoulders and turned to Biff.

"Can we take your SUV? If we put the backseat down, we can slide Joe right in the back," he asked, appearing as in control as always.

Biff nodded somberly. "Sure."

Tony and Chet, who were in the lead, exchanged a nervous glance. They'd known Frank almost all their lives and had seen him cope in situations that would have left most other people emotionally paralyzed and virtually helpless. They'd seen Frank get Joe through the worst times in his life and knew Frank could do that with ease and grace because he always had his father to fall back on. Neither of them dared think of how Frank would even begin to handle having to tell Joe their parents were dead, let alone pick up the pieces of their shattered world.

As they approached the SUV, Frank heard a car door open and shut, quickly followed by two more. Fearing Jarrell's men had beaten them out and were now lying in wait, he spun his head around in the direction of the sound – and let out a huge sigh of relief. Phil, Fenton and Laura had just emerged from Phil's car and were now walking towards the group.

Looking back at their friend, Tony and Chet noticed Frank's slightly watery eyes and rapid blinking, grateful Laura and Fenton had reached their destination unharmed, resulting in at least one happy ending. Glancing down at Joe as he turned back around, Chet prayed it wouldn't be the only one.

"How is he?" Laura looked down at Joe worriedly.

Joe cracked one eye open and looked at his mother. "Fine."

Fenton had opened the back of the SUV and now helped the boys move Joe inside. Laura threw the backpack in beside him and began to climb in, fully intending to ride in the back next to Joe.

Taking the keys Biff offered, Frank turned them over to his father. "It'll take you about two hours to get to the safe house from here. I'll call you the second I'm done testifying tomorrow."

Laura spun around and stared at her husband and son. "Safe house?!"

"Yes," Fenton replied. "None of us is safe in public until _after_ Frank testifies. We can-" he began, trying to explain to his wife that he'd worked out a plan to get Joe the medicine he needed before she exploded but he was too late.

_"What?!"_ Laura cried out looking at Fenton in absolute disbelief. "Joe needs to be in a _hospital_ not a safe house!"

Fenton looked at Frank before replying. "Honey, a hospital is the first place Jarrell will look for him. Frank hasn't testified yet. Until he does, Joe – all of us – are still targets."

"Well, put a guard on his room then! He has to be hospitalized!" Laura said angrily, unable to believe her husband was arguing about this.

"It won't help, Mom," Frank said softly. "Jarrell won't waste time and effort trying to get past a guard."

"Then there's no reason we can't take Joe to a hospital – now!" Laura glared at both Fenton and Frank, her patience having all but disappeared.

"Laura," Fenton began softly, "what Frank means is Jarrell won't bother to try and get Joe individually. He'd think nothing of blowing up an entire hospital full of people to kill Joe and send Frank a message. He's a terrorist. That's what they do."

"_He'd think nothing of blowing up an entire hospital full of people…"_ Laura inhaled sharply, trying to process those words. "But Joe… he needs antibiotics…"

As Fenton opened his mouth to explain Joe would get the medicine he needed that night, he was interrupted once again, this time by Joe himself.

"Mom," Joe said, in a soft, raspy voice. Everyone turned towards the SUV to look at him. "Dr. Gregory can call in a prescription," Joe suggested, referring to his family physician. "Sam can go pick them up." He looked at her pleadingly. "Dad and Frank are right. We have to go to the safe house. Besides," he smiled, "I want to see Vanessa."

Fenton leaned in and looked at Joe, smiling in thanks. That was exactly what he'd been trying to tell his wife. "The antibiotics will be waiting for Joe by the time we get there," Fenton turned and reassured his wife.

Not certain this was the best thing for her son, but seeing she was outnumbered, Laura reluctantly agreed to the plan. Climbing into the back of the SUV, she settled in next to Joe.

"I'll call Sam and Dr. Gregory as soon as we're on the road," Frank promised as Fenton got behind the wheel and turned on the engine. He looked at Joe, who smiled at him.

"Take them down for good, bro," Joe said, in reference to Frank's day in court.

"I will," Frank promised. "And you start getting better, okay?"

Joe gave him a thumbs up as Frank closed the hatch on the vehicle, waving to his father as they pulled away.

Handing Biff his car keys, he got into the passenger seat and pulled out his cell phone. Feeling a sense of relief that his family was finally safe from Jarrell, he made the necessary calls, then sat back and closed his eyes, only now letting himself acknowledge just exactly how physically and mentally exhausted he was. Within minutes, Frank was sound asleep.


	23. Chapter 23

Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed! Sorry for the delay but life is crazy right now. At work, we're closing one store and moving everything to the other one so I'm packing, crating, lifting, hauling, carrying… then when I get home, my niece, her fiancé and their three year old daughter are moving in with me for a year or two (trying to save money to buy a house) so I get to do it all AGAIN!! :o

Again, thank you so much for the reviews. Hope everyone who is still reading continues to enjoy the story. I'll try and be better with updates next week!

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 23**

Pulling up to the gate, Fenton punched in the code and placed his palm on the sensor just as Sam had done two nights earlier. The gate swung open and Fenton drove through it and up the driveway. As he pulled to a stop next to Sam's car, the front door opened and Vanessa came running out.

"Where's Joe?" she asked anxiously peering through the windshield.

"In the back," Fenton replied, seeing Sam and Callie making their way towards him.

"Glad you made it." Sam clapped Fenton on the shoulder. "I picked up the antibiotics. Frank made sure they were called in under the code name so Jarrell couldn't trace them," he continued talking as he followed Fenton to the back of the vehicle.

As soon as they opened the hatch, Vanessa crawled in beside Joe as Laura discreetly exited. Getting her first look at him, she was grateful for the darkness so he wouldn't see the shock in her eyes. Taking in the bandage on his forehead, the purplish bruise forming around his right eye and the bandages encircling his wrists, Vanessa pushed down the lump in her throat. Having awakened when the car came to a stop, Joe opened his eyes and saw Vanessa gazing down at him.

"Hey, Baby," he said weakly, managing a small grin for her.

"Hey, yourself," she whispered, gently brushing a hand across his cheek, shocked at how hot his skin was to the touch. Leaning down, she kissed him softly on the lips. "How about we get you out of here and into a nice, soft bed?"

"Mmm. Sounds good."

Getting out of the vehicle, Vanessa hovered close by as Sam and Fenton slid the stretcher out as gently as they could. Taking Joe's hand, Vanessa walked beside him as they followed Callie and Laura into the house. Getting Joe up the stairs took some doing, but they finally managed it. They walked the last few feet down the hall to the bedroom where Vanessa had been staying and got Joe settled on the bed. Callie, Sam and Fenton then went back out into the hall, leaving Vanessa and Laura with Joe.

Laura went into the bathroom and emerged with a cup of water and the antibiotics Sam had picked up earlier. Watching as Joe swallowed the pills, she smiled to herself as Vanessa sat on the edge of the bed holding Joe's hand and never taking her eyes off him.

"Call if you need anything," Laura said to Vanessa as she left the room.

"I will." Vanessa nodded briefly at Laura, before turning her full attention back to Joe. "Looks like you had a rough time." She wanted to know what happened, but knew Joe would never give her all the details.

"Three of them and one of me," Joe said by way of explanation.

Vanessa frowned. "Not exactly fair."

"Bad guys usually aren't." Joe let out a little laugh and immediately cringed clutching at his side. "Owww…"

"Ribs?" Vanessa guessed.

"Yeah."

"Broken?" She winced at the thought.

"Don't know. Maybe."

"Can I get you anything?"

"A kiss," Joe requested with a smile.

Leaning down, Vanessa was more than happy to indulge him. Pulling back, she looked at him critically.

"You're burning up, Joe. Think you could handle sitting in a cool bath for a little bit?"

Joe knew that moving yet again would be extremely painful on his ribs, but he decided it would be worth it to be cool for a little while. "Yeah. That sounds good."

Giving him another kiss, Vanessa stood up. "I'll start the bath and go get Sam and your Dad to help you into the tub. Be right back."

"I'll wait here," Joe cracked, letting his eyes slide closed.

An hour later, Joe was back in bed, feeling a little better even with the ever-present thermometer stuck in his mouth. With everyone hovering around expectantly, Joe stifled a smirk feeling as if his mother were about to announce the winning lottery numbers. Finally plucking the thermometer from Joe's mouth, Laura smiled.

"One-o-five," she announced. "Down two degrees."

A chorus of relieved sighs reverberated through the room. "Are you hungry? Would you like something to eat?" Laura asked Joe.

"Yeah, I think I would."

"Well, how about we start with some broth? You haven't been eating much and what you have been eating…"

"Don't remind me." Joe grimaced thinking of the plastic bags he'd filled over the past day and a half. "Soup is fine."

While Sam and Fenton excused themselves to the library, Callie and Laura headed to the kitchen to make Joe's soup and a light dinner for everyone else. After the food was eaten and the dishes were done, Laura and Fenton checked on Joe one last time before retiring for their first good night's sleep in days.

Following the explicit instructions Dr. Gregory had given that Joe take the prescribed antibiotics every four hours without fail, Vanessa set the alarm on the bedside table. Perched on the edge of the bed, she felt Joe's eyes on her and smiled at him.

"Are you sure you want me to sleep in here?" she asked for the third time. Joe had insisted he wanted her to stay with him, rather than sleeping in one of the other bedrooms – something she had suggested so as not to disturb him during the night.

"Yes, I'm sure. I want you right here with me."

"Okay," Vanessa agreed a little reluctantly, "but if my moving around during the night bothers you, I want you to tell me. You need to rest."

"Don't worry. It won't." Joe assured her, as she curled up next to him. Wishing he could hold her in his arms the way he was used to doing at home, Joe knew it wouldn't be possible given his injuries and so did the next best thing. Reaching out, he took Vanessa's hand in his and closed his eyes, falling asleep with a contented smile on his face.

oooOOOooo

As Biff turned off the freeway into Bayport, Frank began to stir. Sitting up, he looked out the window and rubbed his eyes, shocked that they were already home. He felt as if he'd barely closed his eyes not a moment before. As Biff neared his home, Frank realized his friend was stranded with no transportation, having willingly given up his own vehicle to Fenton Hardy.

"Thanks for letting my Dad take your SUV," Frank said, as Biff pulled into his driveway. "Why don't you take Joe's car until you get yours back?"

Biff turned to look at Frank as if he had suggested Biff jump off the nearest cliff. "Drive Joe's car? His baby? Are you insane?" The only person Joe had allowed to drive his beloved Mustang was Vanessa – once – and that was out of necessity when her car was being repaired.

"You drove it back here, didn't you?" Frank reminded him.

"That's a little different than driving it around town for a few days," Biff stated. "He'd go ballistic if he knew. Thanks but I don't have a death wish."

Frank sighed, still not really grasping why Joe was so protective of his car and how he had managed to instill the fear of God in anyone who even thought of asking to take it for a spin. "Fine. Why don't you take Callie's car then? You'll need _something_ to drive."

"Now that I'll agree to," Biff grinned, getting out of Frank's car.

"Come on inside. I'll get you the spare set of keys," Frank said as he stretched his six-foot-one frame.

Approaching the darkened house, something occurred to Biff. "Hey, Frank. Now that your parents and Joe are safe and Jarrell can't get to them, what's to stop him from coming after you?"

Walking into the foyer, Frank stopped short and turned around, scowling. "Now there's a cheery thought."

"Well, how else can he stop you from testifying tomorrow?" Biff pointed out.

Frank had to admit he'd been so caught up in getting his family to safety, he hadn't even considered the very real possibility that Jarrell, now having nothing to blackmail Frank with, would come after him. When Frank didn't respond, Biff knew he was right. Walking into the living room, Biff picked up the phone and began to dial.

"What are you doing?" Frank asked puzzled.

"Calling the guys. You need to get a good night's sleep, which you can't do if you're trying to keep one eye open all night."

Sinking into the couch, Frank smiled gratefully as Biff called Phil, Tony and Chet requesting their help in keeping Frank under surveillance for the night. After making the last call, Biff began dialing again.

"Who are you calling now?" Frank wanted to know.

Biff grinned. "Prito's. Tony's going to pick up pizzas on his way over to feed your hard working bodyguards."

oooOOOooo

At exactly 2:43 a.m. the alarm went off and Vanessa immediately sat up. Carefully getting out of bed, she padded to the bathroom where she filled a cup with water and returned to the bed.

"Joe? Wake up, Baby. Time to take the next dose," she said softly, kissing him on the cheek.

Grumbling only slightly, Joe opened his eyes to see Vanessa holding out her hands, offering him the pills and the water. Taking the pills, Joe popped them in his mouth and downed the water giving the empty cup back to Vanessa.

"How do you feel?" she asked, resetting the alarm and settling back into bed next to him.

"Okay." Joe tried to shift in the bed. He winced with each movement, but continued undeterred.

"What are you doing?" Vanessa asked.

"This." Joe grinned, putting an arm around her, and nudging her encouragingly until she gently laid her head on his shoulder. "Mmmm. Much better."

"Tell me when you want me to move." Vanessa thought it couldn't be all that comfortable for him.

"Never. I don't ever want you to move," Joe said, running his fingers through her hair. "So…where are we going to go on our honeymoon?" he asked out of the blue.

"We haven't even finished planning the wedding yet."

"Yeah, but it's more fun planning the honeymoon. So where do you want to go?"

"I don't care, because anywhere we go, I'll be with you," she said softly.

Turning his head slightly, Joe kissed the top of her head. "Come on, I see all those brochures you're always bringing home. Where do you want to go?" he pressed.

"Mmm… a tropical island where I can have you all to myself," Vanessa murmured.

"A deserted island. They'll have to drop us off by helicopter. No! A private plane," Joe said, bringing her fantasy to life. "Sunny days laying around on white sand beaches watching the dolphins off shore, skinny dipping in the ocean. At night, walking on the beach under a full moon and zillion stars. All alone… just the two of us…" His voice drifted off as sleep reclaimed him once again.

Raising her head slightly, Vanessa gazed at him and smiled thinking of the life they were going to share. "Just the two of us," she whispered.

Laying her head back down, she fell asleep dreaming of white sandy beaches and deep blue waters.


	24. Chapter 24

Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! I'm so glad you enjoyed the last chapter. Sadly (or not! :p) I've always had a problem leaving well enough alone… ;-)

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 24**

The sound of someone moving about the room slowly made its way into Joe's consciousness. He heard running water and a few seconds later felt the presence of someone standing next to the bed. He shifted slightly, groaning at the movement and opened his eyes to see Vanessa looking down at him.

"Mornin'," he mumbled. Noting the cup of water Vanessa held in her right hand and the two pills that rested in her left, he grimaced. "Again? Didn't I just take some?"

Vanessa held her hands out towards Joe. "Four hours ago; time for more. And don't even think of trying to sweet talk your way out of taking them," she warned playfully, "or I'll tell your mother."

Joe narrowed his eyes and wrinkled his nose at her, but accepted the medicine, swallowing both pills at once. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Vanessa took the now empty cup from Joe and placed it on the bedside table. "Feel up to some breakfast?"

"I think so." Although he was a little hungry, vivid memories of the blinding pain from the bouts of nausea he'd had after previous meals left him a little leery of eating anything.

"Maybe some toast and juice?" Vanessa suggested. "If you keep it down, you can try something a little more adventurous for lunch."

"Sounds good." Joe smiled as Vanessa leaned down and kissed him lightly.

"I'll be back in a few minutes." She turned and headed downstairs to prepare his meager breakfast.

Closing his eyes again, Joe frowned and pushed aside the thin sheet that was covering him. He'd felt a little better after the cool bath the previous evening despite the pain it had caused his ribs, but now felt uncomfortably hot again. Reaching up, Joe swiped at the light sweat that had broken out on his forehead, wincing as his hand brushed against the bandage there.

Joe heard his father's familiar chuckle. "Don't touch it and it won't hurt."

Joe turned towards the doorway where Fenton was standing, leaning against the doorframe. "Hey, Dad."

Fenton came in and sat on the edge of the bed. "Vanessa said you're up for trying some breakfast this morning." Now getting a closer look at Joe, he frowned at the light sheen on his face. Reaching out, Fenton placed a hand on Joe's face. "You feel hotter this morning."

"A little," Joe acknowledged.

"Do you want to try another bath after breakfast?"

Joe nodded, anticipating the relief it would bring him.

"As soon as Frank is done testifying, we'll get you to the closest hospital," Fenton promised, preparing for an argument from Joe. "They'll have you all fixed up in no time."

Fenton realized his assessment had been correct and Joe wasn't feeling quite as well as he wanted everyone to believe when he agreed with the suggestion. As Laura and Vanessa returned with Joe's breakfast, Fenton went into the bathroom and began to prepare the bath. Glancing at his watch as he placed it on the counter top, he realized Frank should be just about to begin his day in court.

oooOOOooo

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

"I do." Frank lowered his hand and sat down. Eyeing the people in the first row of seats behind the defense table, Frank sought out Johann Jarrell and stared at the man, showing just the hint of a smile.

"Please state your full name," James Vance requested.

"Franklin Davis Hardy," Frank replied giving his full attention to the Federal Prosecutor.

"And what is your occupation, Mr. Hardy?"

"I'm a private investigator." Frank glanced at the defendants again, feeling that euphoria he always got when a case was coming to a close and justice was about to be served.

So began the downfall of Johann Jarrell and his terrorist organization. Frank proved to be the ideal witness and quickly impressed the jury with his consummate professionalism and unwavering confidence in his testimony. With each question posed by Vance, Frank was able to paint a clear picture of the at times confusing inner workings of what had been one of the most feared terrorist networks in the world. Frank patiently explained how Jarrell had cultivated his contact within the U.S. Military and been able to sway the man to betray his country. He had systematically identified the elite upper echelon of the terrorist ring and their individual responsibilities within the organization.

Having gained Jarrell's trust during the dangerous undercover mission, Frank was able to provide valuable evidence regarding planned attacks and the intricate web of financing needed to accomplish them.

By the time the judge called a recess for lunch several hours later, Frank was confident the jury had more than enough information to reach a unanimous guilty verdict; the remainder of his testimony would simply be icing on the cake. Certain Jarrell and his cohorts would have their bail revoked and be behind bars by day's end, unable to threaten his family – or anyone else – ever again, Frank tried to relax a bit. Behind his calm exterior, however, Frank still had one thought weighing heavily on his mind.

'_Joe…'_

Frank wanted to call Sam or his father and check on Joe, knowing he could breathe easier if he were assured his brother's condition was improving. Always prudent though, Frank chose to err on the side of caution. Jarrell was still a free man for the moment and Frank was certain he wouldn't give up his search for a member of the Hardy family if it might result in one last chance to pressure Frank into changing his testimony.

Gracefully declining Vance's offer to join him for lunch, Frank chose to eat alone as his family and their well-being occupied his every thought.

oooOOOooo

By lunchtime, Joe had taken a cool bath, had another dose of antibiotics and eaten half a sandwich. In his much weakened state, the simple task of moving from the bed to the bathroom and back again, had left Joe exhausted. Almost immediately upon finishing his lunch, Joe fell into a sound sleep.

After a little gentle persuasion, Vanessa agreed to leave Joe's side for the first time since he had arrived at the safe house and join the others downstairs. Intending to go back upstairs within the hour, Vanessa was surprised when a soft beep sounded several hours later. Looking at Joe's watch, which now adorned her wrist, she saw it was time for his next round of antibiotics. Pressing the button to turn off the alarm, she excused herself and made her way upstairs. Pushing open the bedroom door, Vanessa stepped into the room.

"Joe? Time to wake up and…" Vanessa stopped mid-sentence. Frozen in shock, she stared at her fiancée, horrified.

…

Back down in the viewing room, Callie, Laura, Fenton and Sam were playfully arguing about which movie to watch when Vanessa's panicked shriek brought all conversation to a halt.

"_LAURA_!" Vanessa's voice carried down the stairs, clearly distressed.

For one split second, the four of them stared at each other, unnerved at the abject terror in her voice. Laura was the first to move knowing her child was in trouble. Fleeing the room, she practically flew up the stairs, with the others on her heels. Stampeding into the room the foursome came to an immediate halt, unable to believe what they were seeing.

Vanessa was kneeling on the bed next to Joe, shaking him roughly. Turning in their direction, she zeroed in on Laura. "I can't wake him up!"

Rushing to Joe's side, Laura gasped. Joe was obviously burning up with fever, both he and the bedcovers now soaked with sweat. As she caught sight of his arms, her hand flew to her mouth, holding back a scream. The bright red streaks that had begun to diminish that morning had returned with a vengeance, now running the entire length of Joe's arms. She watched helplessly as Fenton grabbed Joe by the shoulders and shook him.

"Joe! Joe, wake up!"

Callie put a comforting arm around Laura as they watched Fenton repeatedly attempt to rouse Joe, shivering at the panic that had crept into his voice.

Quickly stepping forward, Sam took Fenton's arm and forcefully pulled him back, taking charge of the situation. "We need to get him into the car."

Fenton regained some of his composure as he moved to help Sam lift Joe off the bed. With Joe now totally unresponsive and time of the essence, they no longer worried about moving him carefully. Sam grabbed Joe under the arms as Fenton took hold of his legs. They rushed down the stairs and out the door, Callie, Laura and Vanessa ahead of them.

Reaching the SUV first, Callie opened the back and stepped aside as Sam and Fenton placed Joe inside the vehicle. Laura and Vanessa quickly climbed in, taking up positions on either side of Joe.

Having known Fenton Hardy for over twenty years, Sam could easily see through the composed exterior his friend was trying to project. Joe's unexpected turn for the worse had left his father anguished. Snatching away the keys Fenton held loosely in his hand, Sam handed them to Callie and pointed to the driver's seat.

"Follow me," he ordered her, and then turned to Fenton who was about to protest. "Don't argue with me. Just get in and let's go."

Fenton snapped his mouth shut, momentarily stunned at the normally easygoing Sam's abrupt personality change. Quickly realizing Sam was right, Fenton scrambled into the passenger seat as Callie started the vehicle and smoothly pulled out behind Sam.

Looking over his shoulder, Fenton saw Laura removing a thermometer from Joe's mouth. "What is it?" he asked, alarmed at the look on her face.

"107.8," Laura replied hoarsely.

Callie gripped the steering wheel, listening to the muted sounds of crying coming from the backseat, not sure if it was Vanessa, Laura or both of them. Chancing a glance to her right, Callie began to get scared. Fenton Hardy, an unflappable pillar of strength, stared out the window, his face a mask of grief.

oooOOOooo

As the judge disappeared into his chamber, James Vance turned to Frank. Grabbing his hand, Vance pumped it up and down enthusiastically. Bail had been revoked and Jarrell and his men were on their way to jail to await a verdict.

"Congratulations, Frank! You and Joe have effectively destroyed the largest known terrorist ring in the U.S.!"

Skillfully pulling his hand away, Frank modestly acknowledged the praise and made a quick exit from the courtroom. Dodging people in the hall, Frank ran the length of the corridor and barreled through the front doors of the courthouse and down the steps, leaving a large group of stunned reporters in his wake. Pulling out his cell phone, Frank dialed Sam's number as he ran to his car.

"Radley!" Sam answered tersely.

"Sam? I'm done. How's Joe?" Frank blurted out, yanking the car door open.

"Not good," Sam replied gravely.

Frank's heart caught in his throat. "_What_?!"

Listening to Sam in stunned silence, a part of Frank refused to believe what he was hearing. How could Joe's condition have taken such a drastic turn for the worse so quickly?

"He's unresponsive, Frank. His temperature is over 107."

Leaning heavily against the seat, Frank wasn't even aware of the tear that slid from his eye. He vaguely heard Sam giving him the name of a hospital as he second guessed every decision he'd made concerning his brother – relying on a tracking device instead of insisting on accompanying Joe; adamantly maintaining Joe had to be taken to the safe house instead of a hospital; helping to convince Laura oral antibiotics would be enough to combat the infection Joe couldn't fight off on his own.

The buzz of a dial tone jarred Frank back to reality as he realized Sam had hung up. Starting his car, Frank pulled out not bothering to look first and pressed the gas pedal to the floor, oblivious to the angry drivers he left in his wake.

'_Please… don't let him die.'_


	25. Chapter 25

Thank you so much to Phoenix, Nicole, No1butjoe, Miss Fenway, Helen, MissMe113 and pally for taking a moment to review. :-)

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 25**

Vanessa sat in the back of the speeding SUV holding Joe's hand, never taking her eyes off his face. She was listening to Laura who was talking to Joe softly, continuously, hoping for some kind of response but so far getting none.

'_He's so hot.'_ Vanessa absently reached out to touch his cheek as if to confirm it. _'Why did I leave him alone for so long? Why did I leave him at all?'_

Vanessa had been tormenting herself with these thoughts ever since she had returned to the bedroom to find Joe unconscious and unresponsive. Out of the corner of her eye, Vanessa had seen Fenton turning to look at Joe every few minutes. A few times she could feel him looking at her but was unable to meet his gaze, fearing she would see blame in his eyes.

Vanessa knew that if she had stayed with Joe, as she'd done since he arrived at the safe house, instead of letting herself be talked into going downstairs with the others, she would have seen it immediately when his condition had started to deteriorate. Before she could fall any further into self-blame, the vehicle started to slow.

Vanessa looked up as Callie made a right turn into the hospital parking lot. She pulled up to the doors of the emergency room and Fenton jumped out while the car was still moving, racing through the doors. By the time Callie had stopped, gotten out and opened the hatch, Fenton had returned with the hospital personnel and a stretcher.

Joe was quickly removed from the SUV and transferred to the stretcher. Laura, Fenton and Vanessa were virtually on the heels of the nurse and two orderlies who wheeled Joe through the main doors. As they approached the doors leading into the examination areas, a receptionist seemed to appear out of nowhere, clipboard in hand, blocking their entrance.

"I'm sorry, you'll have to wait in the waiting area." She pointed to a room just across the corridor with the hard chairs and uncomfortable couches that seemed to be standard issue for every emergency room in the world. "If you could complete these forms while you're waiting, someone will be out to speak with you shortly," she finished offering the clipboard containing blank forms and a pen.

Fenton nodded and took the clipboard. Frowning at the closed doors, he turned and walked to the waiting room with Laura and Vanessa. A few moments later, Sam and Callie came in and joined them. Callie sat down next to Vanessa as Sam pulled a chair up next to Fenton.

"Frank called me," Sam said. "The judge revoked bail for Jarrell and all his men. They're in jail."

"Thank God," Laura murmured.

"I told him about Joe. He should be here in an hour or so."

Fenton completed the paperwork, taking it back to the receptionist, answering a few questions about Joe's injuries and then returning to the waiting room. Silently taking his wife's hand, he stared blankly at the wall as the doubts and second-guessing began. What would have happened had they taken Joe to a hospital immediately as Laura had insisted? Would Joe really have been in that much danger? Would Jarrell even have been able to find him before morning when he had to be in court?

"Mr. and Mrs. Hardy?"

Fenton looked up to see a man in his late thirties with curly reddish-blonde hair and green eyes. He glanced at the nametag clipped to his lab coat that read, "Neil Andress, M.D., Emergency Medicine".

"How's Joe?" Laura asked leaning forward anxiously.

"As you had suspected, he has a pretty severe concussion. One of his ribs does have a hairline fracture. Three others are just very badly bruised. Those injuries will heal completely given a little time. I'm much more concerned about the fever and infection.

"He has a systemic infection brought on by the infection in his wrists. Normally we don't see an infection of this magnitude until several days after the wound site has become infected. Since Joe has a compromised immune system, his body wasn't able to fight it off the local infection in his wrists. It was carried to the rest of his body through the bloodstream. Unfortunately, it had already gotten to the point where oral antibiotics only temporarily slowed the spread of it.

"We've started him on a large dose of intravenous antibiotics in the hopes that will start to turn things around. As far as that is concerned, we won't know anything for several hours. His temperature was taken about fifteen minutes ago and it was 108. I'm afraid that is dangerously high. We're keeping him wrapped in cooling 'blankets' and administering intravenous fluids to combat dehydration. We'll be monitoring his temperature every fifteen minutes. If it doesn't start to come down soon, or continues to rise, there could be severe complications."

"What kind of complications?" Fenton asked, his voice shaky.

"Seizures, brain damage, coma…death," Andress replied somberly. "We're going to keep him here in the E.R. for the time being, until his condition stabilizes. I'll be out periodically to keep you informed of his progress. If you have any questions, just ask the receptionist to page me."

"Thank you, Doctor." Fenton turned and looked at his wife, awash in guilt. "I'm so sorry, Laura."

Laura felt the anger that she had repressed at Fenton and Frank's refusal to even consider her request that Joe be taken to a hospital immediately come bubbling back up. Knowing she was just as angry with herself for not standing her ground, and mindful of a promise she had once made to herself never to speak in the heat of anger, she simply nodded. "I know you are," she said quietly.

Hearing the exchange, Vanessa, her eyes wide in shock, turned to face Callie and saw a similar expression on Callie's face. Momentarily forgetting her own anguish, Vanessa wondered what the repercussions would be on the Hardys' picture perfect marriage if Joe did not make a complete recovery.

oooOOOooo

Speeding west on the Interstate, Frank was surrounded by memories of his younger brother. With only a year's difference in their ages, Frank couldn't remember Joe ever _not_ being a part of his life. Thinking back on their childhood brought an automatic smile to his face. Frank wondered what would happen if their parents ever found out they didn't know half the of the crazy things Joe did or the trouble he got into while growing up because Frank bailed him out or covered for him before it ever got back to Laura and Fenton.

Joe's exuberance and fun loving enthusiasm for living life to its fullest had influenced Frank in the most positive ways, something Frank realized he'd never shared with his brother or thanked him for. People always assumed it was Frank who'd been a positive influence on Joe and Frank knew that he had, but few seemed to understand it went both ways. Joe's passion for life affected him every day, something Frank did not want to be forced into learning how to live without.

Driving in silence, Frank heard a soft _clink_ and glanced down, seeing the ID bracelet Joe had given him for his birthday gently brushing against the steering wheel. He thought about that night and knew no matter what age he lived to be, that would be the best birthday of his life. It was the night Joe had given him the one gift he wanted more than anything in the world but didn't dare hope for – his brother's trust. In fact it was the only birthday he could recall where every single one of his wishes came true. Staring out the windshield into the night, Frank noticed one star in the sky that seemed to be burning more brightly than the rest.

"I know it's not my birthday," he said softly, "but I have one more wish. Please help my brother."


	26. Chapter 26

As always, thank you so much for the reviews. Hope you continue to enjoy the story. Only three chapters left after this one.

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 26**

Pulling into a space in the hospital parking lot Frank felt a rush of relief at the prospect of simply being reunited with his family. Feeling completely isolated the past few days, he now knew what it felt like to be alone – and very lonely.

Rushing through the doors of the emergency entrance, he headed straight for the waiting room. Walking through the doorway he was mildly surprised to see only his family there, reminding him how isolated they'd been at the safe house. The small town hospital closest to where the house was located never saw the kind of continuous twenty-four hour emergencies a city hospital dealt with regularly.

Seeing Frank enter, Callie immediately got up and crossed the short distance between them. Wrapping their arms around each other, Frank held her tightly surprised at the intense emotions he felt. They'd only been separated a few days yet it felt like years. He almost didn't want to let her go but he was anxious to get an update on Joe. "How's Joe?" he asked apprehensively as they stepped apart.

"Not too good," Callie replied honestly. "He has a concussion – a pretty serious one apparently. One of his ribs is cracked and three others are badly bruised. But the doctor said those will heal."

"What about the fever? And the infection? The antibiotics we got didn't do any good at all?" Frank asked, scared. He'd been sure they would help, or at the very least keep Joe stable until they could safely get him to a hospital.

"Dr. Andress said they weren't strong enough to stop the infection. All they did was slow it down a little bit and even that was only temporary," Callie answered as gently as she could. Frank would never have knowingly put Joe in danger yet it turned out that's exactly what had happened. "They've got him on high doses of IV antibiotics now. They're hoping that will stop the infection, but they won't know anything for a few more hours."

"Hours?!" Frank repeated, shocked. He took a moment to absorb all the information. "What about the fever? Is it coming down now?"

"No. It's gone up." Callie hated being the one to dump all the bad news on Frank.

"And…" He narrowed his eyes at the vague response. "How much has it gone up?"

"Last time they told us it was 108… _Frank_!" Callie grabbed Frank's arm to steady him as he turned a ghastly shade of white and looked ready to pass out. Guiding him to a nearby chair, she sat him down and took the one next to him. Hearing someone approach, she looked up and smiled gratefully at Sam Radley, who crouched down directly in front of Frank.

"What else?" Frank asked, hoarsely, looking at Callie who, in turn, looked to Sam for help. "Why is his temperature so high? Why can't they get it down?" Frank looked at Sam and shook his head. "That's way too high."

"It's high because of the infection, Frank. And they're trying to get it down. They're keeping him wrapped in those special cooling blankets and they've got him on a lot of fluids to make sure he doesn't get dehydrated. But the infection is what's causing the fever and it's essentially been spreading, almost unchecked, for close to two days. It's going to take time. There's just no way around that," Sam explained.

"What about complications?" Frank knew that had to at least be a possibility.

"If it doesn't start to come down or continues to climb, there's a chance of seizures, brain damage, coma…death…"

The words had a staggering effect on Frank. Oblivious to his surroundings while the meaning seeped into his consciousness, he hadn't noticed Callie and Sam quietly returning to the other side of the room. As Frank refocused on the face in front of him, he saw his father looking back at him, a mixture of concern and regret in Fenton's deep brown eyes.

"Dad…we did this to him."

"We did what we thought was best at the time," Fenton said. The fact of the matter was he agreed with Frank wholeheartedly. It had never even occurred to either of them to consider _not_ taking Joe to the safe house. But he was not about to let Frank shoulder the blame for this. "If anyone is to blame here it's me. I saw what they did to Joe. I watched him get worse and worse and still never once considered taking him to a hospital. He fought so hard I was sure he could hold on for twenty-four more hours without endangering him like this.

"And he _did_ get a little better, Frank. He was awake, talking to Vanessa, to _all_ of us. He even joked with me. He was eating a little bit…I don't know what went wrong…"

Frank thought his father sounded guilt ridden and defeated. He put a hand on his father's shoulder, knowing exactly how he felt. "How's Mom taking it? And Vanessa?"

Fenton shook his head. "Poor Vanessa. She hasn't said one word and I know she feels responsible."

"Vanessa?" Frank said, bewildered, glancing at her seated next to Callie. "Why would she feel responsible for any of this? She didn't even know Joe had been hurt until _after_ they got to the safe house."

"Once we got there, she didn't leave Joe's side for more than a minute. She took charge of making sure he took the antibiotics every four hours without fail; made sure he was eating and drinking enough. Joe seemed to be getting better. We convinced her to leave the room and come downstairs with us for a while when he was sleeping. She was only going to stay for half an hour or so, but she ended up staying for almost four hours. Until the alarm went off reminding her it was time for Joe to take another dose of antibiotics.

"I knew she'd lost track of time, but she'd been up in that room the whole time, basically just watching Joe sleep. She seemed more relaxed with us. I thought I was doing the right thing by not telling her she'd stayed longer than she had intended." Fenton looked at Frank, filled with remorse. "I guess I made the wrong choice…again. She was so distraught. I know she thinks if she'd just stayed with Joe she could have let us know the second he started to get worse."

"What about Mom? How's she holding up?" Frank looked from Vanessa to his mother. The two were holding each other's hands loosely, staring blankly.

"I…I honestly don't know."

Frank looked at his father sharply, detecting something in his voice Frank had never heard before and couldn't quite place. "What do you mean you don't know? Hasn't she said anything?"

"Not to me." Fenton tried to remain stoic but he'd never been in this position before. The gulf between him and Laura had been growing by the minute and it was getting so big he wasn't sure how they were going to bridge it. If Joe didn't recover, he was certain the void between them would be permanent. His voice started to quiver as he looked at Frank. "She blames me, Frank. She thinks it's my fault for not letting her take Joe to a hospital immediately."

"Dad, that's not true!" Frank cried out. "I know she didn't say that."

"No, not in so many words, but she got the message across loud and clear."

As Frank was about to speak, Dr. Andress reappeared in the waiting room. Immediately, everyone was on their feet in hopeful anticipation. Frank noticed that while Callie quickly came to his side, making sure he had her full support, Laura stood next to Vanessa, her arm wrapped around the younger girl, while Fenton stood between Frank and Sam…as far away from his wife as he could possibly be.

"The infection finally seems to be responding to the antibiotics," he announced, as the small group let out a collective sigh of relief. Their smiles quickly faded when they noticed the expression on the doctor's face had not changed despite the seemingly good news. Quietly subdued, they waited for him to continue.

"However, Joe's temperature was extremely high for much longer than we like to see it. It's no longer climbing but it hasn't come down as much as we had hoped either. It's been hovering at 107 for several hours now. He's had several fever induced seizures and I'm afraid he seems to be slipping into a coma."


	27. Chapter 27

A new chapter, as requested by Polaris since she is done with physics! YIPPEE!! :p

Big hugs to all those who have reviewed! And thank you to everyone who is reading.

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 27**

_"…he seems to be slipping into a coma."_

The news that Joe had apparently fallen victim to complications even as the infection was being conquered, had been devastating for everyone. A tense, ominous silence almost swallowed up the small room as each person seemed to retreat into themselves, wondering what they could have done differently to prevent this outcome. It was evident from the looks on their faces that Fenton and Frank held no one but themselves responsible.

Frank had asked to see Joe after Dr. Andress had told them about the seizures. Since Joe's condition was still unstable and the emergency room staff was closely monitoring him, his request was denied. Knowing that the rest of his family had seen Joe, spoken to him, watched him seemingly improve over the previous twenty-four hours left Frank feeling cheated and a little jealous. The last time Frank had seen his brother, Joe had smiled at him and given him words of encouragement for the trial.

_"Take them down for good, bro."_

Frank had promised to do so if Joe promised to start getting better. Joe's response was a thumbs-up, indicating he'd hold up his end of the bargain if Frank would do the same. Somehow, Frank thought that was the turning point. He still worried about Joe, but felt certain he'd begin to recover now that he'd be on antibiotics and able to get the rest he needed.

Restlessly pacing the waiting room and corridor for the last few hours, Frank had developed an all-consuming need to see his brother. Knowing he had been expressly forbidden to do so only made the need that much stronger. Frank had left the waiting room a while ago and was now stalking the doors to the examination area of the emergency room. Every so often, the receptionist would look up at him and smile almost apologetically. Everyone, it seemed, was concerned about the young man who had been brought in with such a high fever and had been trying to keep up the spirits of his family who refused to leave the hospital despite being told they wouldn't be able to see him until morning at the earliest – and maybe not even then.

They didn't know Frank Hardy, though. He was determined to see his brother and no one was going to stop him. Over the past hour Frank had been keeping the ER staff "under surveillance", although they thought he was just a worried family member with too much excess energy to burn off. While it appeared the comings and goings of the staff was random, Frank noticed a pattern. When the receptionist needed to take a break, another staffer would keep an eye out for incoming emergencies, but they did so from a distance, leaving the doors leading back to the exam rooms temporarily unguarded. With the patience of a saint, Frank waited…and waited…and waited.

Finally, his persistence was rewarded when he heard the receptionist ask one of the nurses to keep an eye on the desk while she used the restroom. Thorough as always even in times of stress, Frank nonchalantly made his way to the doors, opening one of them just a crack. Peering into the heart of the emergency room, he saw the nurse with her back to the doors, at an angle giving her a full view of the desk and reception area. She was leaning against the wall, talking quietly on the phone.

Soundlessly slipping through the doors, Frank partially hid himself behind a cart, taking a moment to familiarize himself with the layout of the emergency area. As luck would have it, he happened to have chosen a spot directly under a map of the emergency exit routes out of that section of the hospital. Quickly committing it to memory, Frank said a silent thank you as he realized the exam rooms were to his right. He wouldn't need to go anywhere near the nurse standing guard over the desk.

With a stealth that came from years of experience, Frank rapidly made his way to the exam rooms without making a sound. He noticed the curtains covering the doorways were open on every room save one, the only one, he assumed, that contained a patient. Getting closer, he stole a glance in the room relieved to see the lack of personnel in there. Pushing the curtain aside, Frank stepped inside. Making his way to the bed, which was really a glorified stretcher, Frank gazed down at his brother, his heart aching.

There was a fresh white bandage wrapped around Joe's forehead, replacing the makeshift dressing Laura had applied. His right eye and the area surrounding it was a striking shade of deep purple. Several plastic bags filled with liquid hung on either side of the bed, attached to IV lines that disappeared beneath the silver cooling blanket covering Joe. Reaching out, Frank laid his hand gently on Joe's cheek, which was sweaty, flushed and hot to the touch. Not really expecting any kind of response, Frank was still disappointed when Joe didn't even flinch.

Noting the chart hanging from the foot of the bed, Frank quietly removed it from the hook and began to read. Joe's temperature had shot up even further after he'd arrived in the ER, but then miraculously started to come down, before stalling at 107 degrees, where it continued to remain. As his eyes fell on the final notation that had been made only ten minutes earlier, Frank couldn't stifle a small cry.

_"Prognosis: Poor."_

Returning the chart to it's hook, Frank walked back to Joe's bedside, resting his hand on top of the cool silver covering in the spot where he assumed Joe's arm to be. Knowing how much Joe hated to be lectured, Frank decided that was just what his brother needed at the moment.

'_Maybe he'll hear me and get so mad he'll wake up just to tell me off.'_

"Listen up, little brother, because I'm only going to say this once. This is the third time this year I've had to stand next to you in a hospital bed and beg you not to leave. We all know you love being the center of attention but this is getting really old, okay? At this rate, I'll be gray before I'm thirty. People will start thinking I'm your father instead of your brother." Frank stopped and his voice softened.

"After twenty-three years, I've gotten pretty used to having you around, even if you do have a flair for the dramatic. And I'd really rather not learn what it's like to be an only child if it's all the same to you. Besides, I still have to pay you back for that bachelor party you threw for me. Look, Brat, I know you get a kick out of pushing my buttons, but I give up, okay? You win. So, if you'd stop all the theatrics and just wake up so we could all go home…well, I'd really appreciate it."

Patting Joe on the arm, Frank abruptly turned and left the exam room. He quietly made his way down the corridor, through the swinging doors and back out into the hall. Bypassing his family in the waiting room, Frank didn't stop, completely exiting the hospital.

Searching the grounds just outside the doors, he saw a secluded spot behind some bushes where he could have the solitude he craved. Taking a seat on the ground, he pulled his knees up to his chest, leaned back against the hard brick wall and closed his eyes. Joe was going to be all right. He had to be. Frank refused to consider any other outcome.

Frank knew he'd been sitting there in the dark, in the middle of the night, for well over an hour, unconcerned that his sudden disappearance might worry his family. They were all too caught up in their own grief to even notice he was gone. All except Callie. But she understood him like no on else – except maybe Joe. Callie would know if Frank had not returned to the waiting room, it was because he needed time alone to think about his brother and sort through his feelings.

Just as Frank was contemplating going back inside he heard female voices approaching. Peering over the bushes, he saw two of the ER nurses take a seat on the bench, apparently on a break. He listened as they talked about the beautiful fall weather their small town had been having, an upcoming baby shower for one of their coworkers and that weekend's high school football game which one of their sons would be playing in. They lapsed into a momentary silence until one of them brought up the lone patient occupying the ER.

"It's just so sad. Have you seen his family out there? They refuse to leave even though they know they can't see him. Dr. Andress told them if they wanted to go get some rest, he'd call if there was any change in his condition. I really hope he makes it."

Frank smiled at the woman's heartfelt wish. _'Me too.'_

"I hate to say it, but don't get your hopes up," the second woman said somberly and Frank's heart plummeted. "Just before I went on break Dr. Andress asked me to get him the number of the local contact for the National Organ Donor program. Apparently the guy has an organ donor card."

"It's that bad?" the first woman asked.

"I'm afraid so. Such a shame, too. He's so young…" As the two women stood and walked away, their voices faded, leaving Frank stunned.

'_Organ donor program? NO! He can't die like this!!'_

Now on his knees, Frank wrapped his arms around himself, overcome with dry heaves, feeling sick to his stomach. Rooted to the spot, Frank wondered how he could possibly say goodbye to his brother, his partner, his best friend.

'_They're wrong,'_ Frank thought grasping at any bit of hope he could find. _'They don't know Joe. They don't know what a fighter he is.'_

Hearing a noise Frank looked up expecting to see another employee on a break, but instead found himself looking into Callie's worried brown eyes.

"Frank, you need to come back inside" she said soberly. "Dr. Andress is coming out to talk to us. He wants the whole family there."

Callie helped a zombie-like Frank to his feet. Slipping an arm around his waist, she guided him back to the entrance to the emergency room.

'_This is it,'_ Frank thought. _'My brother is dead.'_

One by one, Frank felt his emotions shutting down, knowing that was the only possible way he could deal with the devastating news he was about to receive.


	28. Chapter 28

Thank you so much to Miss Fenway, No1butjoe, Nicole, MissMe113 (and YAY for the return of the Dolphmunk! :D) and Polaris for the awesome reviews.

Only one more chapter to go after this one…

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 28**

Upon returning to the waiting room, Frank saw Vanessa flanked by his parents. Laura had an arm around Vanessa, while Vanessa held one of Fenton's hands tightly in both of hers. Sam stood next to Fenton, a hand lightly resting on his friend's shoulder. Frank and Callie silently took a position next to Sam and waited. The wait wasn't long as it was only a moment later that Dr. Andress hurried into the waiting room and stood in front of the small group.

"I'll be blunt," he began as Frank closed his eyes and sent out one last desperate prayer for good news. "I had fully expected to be accompanied by a representative of the National Organ Donor program. But I'm very happy to say I didn't have to make that call. Joe's fever finally broke." Andress smiled and waited for the sighs and murmurs of relief to subside.

"He's still unconscious but he's responding to stimuli. His fever is still high – 105 at the last reading – but its finally coming down. It will take at least another twenty-four hours of intravenous antibiotics to make sure we've got the infection completely under control, but I'm very optimistic he'll make a complete recovery."

"Very optimistic?" Vanessa repeated. "Does that mean you're not sure?"

"It means once Joe regains consciousness we'll need to run an EEG – a brain scan – and a few other tests to confirm there was no permanent damage. Personally, I think he'll be fine," Andress assured her.

"Can we see him now?' Laura asked hopefully.

"We'll be moving him to a room within the hour. You can see him then. However, Joe probably won't wake up until this afternoon at the earliest. I know you've all been here all night. It might be a good idea to see him for just a few minutes once we get him settled and then go and get some rest yourselves. I'm sure you'd much rather spend time with him when he's awake."

With no further questions, Dr. Andress returned to his patient. Vanessa and Laura immediately grabbed each other tightly, crying a few tears of happiness and relief. Frank turned to Callie and they hugged each other.

"Whatever you said must've gotten through to him." Callie's voice was muffled against Frank's shoulder.

Frank stiffened. "What did you say?"

Callie pulled away slightly and looked at him. "Joe must've heard you."

"Dr. Andress specifically said I couldn't go see him."

Callie grinned. "And I know you didn't let that stop you for one second."

oooOOOooo

Slowly Joe began to awaken, wondering why Vanessa hadn't roused him yet. Surely it had been at least four hours since he had eaten lunch, taken a bath and had the last dose of antibiotics. Hearing a voice in the hall as someone passed by the room, he vaguely wondered why he couldn't place it. Why would there be someone in the safe house that he didn't know?

Sensing someone else in the room Joe smiled to himself knowing it was Vanessa, then frowned, puzzled as to why she wasn't in her customary place on the bed next to him. He knew that even while he slept, she sat right next to him reading a book or a magazine or just watching him. Deciding it wasn't important enough to think about, Joe lolled in that place of semi-wakefulness as it dawned on him that he actually felt a little better. _'Those antibiotics must finally be kicking in.'_

While still warm, he was much cooler than he had been in days. The bass drum that had been playing incessantly in his head was gone, replaced by a low throbbing and the intense stabbing pain he'd gotten in his side when he dared to do so much as breathe had decreased to a dull ache.

Lifting his arm a little to get more comfortable, Joe felt a slight pulling sensation and cracked an eye open to see if he could determine the cause. Glancing around his eyes shot open.

'_A hospital?! When did I go to the hospital?'_

"Hey, you."

Joe immediately relaxed at hearing Vanessa's soft greeting. "Hey," he replied, his voice hoarse and low.

"Water?" Vanessa held a plastic cup with a straw.

Joe nodded taking several large mouthfuls. He looked around again, more slowly, his eyes coming to rest on the plastic tubes he had in each arm. Raising his eyes, he saw Vanessa looking at him with obvious relief.

"That must've been one hell of a nap I took," he cracked as Vanessa's eyes widened in surprise at the comment. "How did I get here? And _when_ did I get here? Has Frank testified yet?" Joe realized he didn't even know what day it was.

"You don't remember?" Vanessa countered, finding comfort in the thought.

Ever since she had found Joe unconscious in the bedroom, she had tormented herself with the thought that he'd awakened, delirious and in pain, unable to move and calling out for help. She was convinced he'd been awake and aware of his deteriorating condition, desperate for help yet unable to summon anyone to assist him, as they were all too busy relaxing downstairs.

"Remember what? You made me take those stupid pills, we started talking about the wedding and I fell asleep." Joe frowned. "What's there to remember?"

Vanessa started to laugh although it wasn't the happy, infectious giggle Joe couldn't seem to get enough of. This was closer to a hysterical laugh.

Wiping at her eyes, Vanessa leaned down and softly kissed Joe on the cheek. She then explained to him what had transpired in the last twenty-four hours, concluding with Dr. Andress insinuating he hadn't expected Joe to pull through, shuddering at the memory.

Joe listened a little shocked, then decided not remembering any of it wasn't such a bad thing after all. "Gee, after hearing all that, I'm kinda glad I missed all the fun."

"I'm glad you did, too," Vanessa agreed with a smile.

Joe looked around the room. "So where is everybody?"

"Back at the safe house, sleeping. They all came in for a few minutes when you were first brought to the room, but Dr. Andress suggested everyone get some sleep and come back later when you were awake."

"So how come you didn't go with them?" Joe looked at her critically. "Don't tell me you weren't tired, too." He knew she must have been beside herself with worry all night and probably hadn't slept a wink.

"I slept here." She jerked her head at the other bed in the room. "I didn't want you to be alone when you woke up and Dr. Andress wasn't exactly sure when that would be."

"Well, I'm glad you were here. It would have been more than a little disconcerting waking up in a hospital room – alone – since I had no idea what happened. Thanks, Babe." Joe tugged on her hand until she leaned down again, so he could kiss her.

Sitting back, Vanessa stared at Joe and smiled. "You know, I could really live quite happily without any more of your near death experiences. They're getting kind of old."

Joe started to laugh, only to be stopped by something trying to push its way up from his subconscious.

'…_this is getting really old…I give up, okay…just wake up…I'd really appreciate it…'_

The voice in his head was distorted, almost as if the person was very far away from him when they were speaking and Joe couldn't quite place it.

"Van, did anyone come in and sit with me in the E.R.? Mom…you…Frank…anyone?"

"No. We wanted to but Dr. Andress expressly forbid it. He said your condition was too unstable."

Joe concentrated a moment longer, then shrugged it off. "I must've had some pretty weird dreams!"

Vanessa shrugged. "A high fever can do that."

Joe grinned, tugging Vanessa's hand once more. "So why don't you make me forget them."

Vanessa leaned down to meet his lips with her own, happy to oblige.

"He's obviously awake and feeling better." A familiar, deep voice echoed through the room.

Joe separated from Vanessa just enough to reply to his brother. "Much better. So go away. I'm busy," he said kissing Vanessa with all the enthusiasm he could muster just to annoy Frank.

Vanessa pulled away from him, giggling, and Joe thought it was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard. Looking up, Joe saw Frank, Callie, Fenton and Laura standing just inside the room. With tears in her eyes, Laura quickly moved to Joe's bedside, kissing him on the cheek.

"Thanks for taking care of me, Mom," Joe whispered in her ear, hugging her as best he could.

"Always," she whispered back. Straightening up, she wiped her eyes and took a step back as Fenton approached.

"Good to have you back, son," he said emotionally, squeezing Joe's shoulder. "Nice shiner," he added with a laugh.

"Hey, bro," Frank said in mock anger, standing at the foot of the bed and staring at Joe. "The last time I saw you, you promised to start getting better if I promised to take down Jarrell and his goons. I held up my end of the bargain. What happened to you?"

"Thought you could use a little excitement in your life," Joe grinned.

"That kind of excitement we can do without," Callie said.

"Funny, my staff said the same thing," Dr. Andress said as he entered the room. Approaching the bed, he held his hand out to Joe. "We haven't been formally introduced yet, Joe. I'm Dr. Andress."

"Nice to meet you." Joe smiled and shook his hand. "And thanks for saving my life. I've grown kind of attached to being alive."

"Well, thank you but I think you deserve most of the credit. Apparently you're just too stubborn to die."

"Gee, what a surprise," Frank said sardonically. "So is he going to make a complete recovery?"

"That's my guess, but we still need to run a few tests for confirmation, mostly to keep the legal department happy."

"You mean the brain scan?" Laura asked.

"Don't worry, Mom. Joe would actually need to have a brain in order to have brain damage," Frank joked.

"You're just jealous of my superior intelligence. I'm really smarter than you. Mom and Dad have kept it hidden all these years so as not to damage your fragile psyche," Joe told his brother haughtily, and then looked at Dr. Andress. "Can I have something to eat now? I'm hungry."

Andress chuckled. "I think that can be arranged."

"Good. And when can I get out of here?" Joe demanded. "No offense, but I hate hospitals."

"Is he always like this?" the doctor asked Fenton and Laura, shaking his head.

"I'm afraid so," Fenton replied with a smile.

"You need to stay on the IV antibiotics for at least twenty-four more hours. And I'd like to see your temperature down to 100 before I release you." Dr. Andress hid a smile at the dejected look on Joe's face. "If you follow all our instructions to the letter, maybe you can go home the day after tomorrow. I'll go see about getting you something to eat," he finished as he left the room.

"Oh, sure, I get to go home," Joe complained. "Didn't get to play with any of the cool stuff they had at the safe house. And I'm sure they're going to give me those stupid bed rest instructions when they release me so I'll be bored to tears and driving Vanessa crazy…"

As Joe rambled on about the unexciting convalescence he had to look forward to, Frank pulled Fenton aside.

"Dad, do you think…"

As the others listened to Joe's dire predictions of death by boredom, Fenton listened to Frank's plan, grinning from ear to ear.


	29. Chapter 29

And so we come to the end. Thank you SO MUCH to everyone who took a moment to review during this story! I appreciated every, single comment! :-) You guys are AWESOME! Hope you enjoy the final chapter.

**Triple Jeopardy**

**Chapter 29**

Two days later Fenton and Laura Hardy sat on a bench in the gazebo of the immaculately tended and sculptured gardens. Frank had suggested the Hardy family return to the safe house during the first few days after Joe's release from the hospital. With so many video games, DVD's, CD's, computer games and the massive TV and mini-movie theater to keep him occupied with a minimum of movement, they wouldn't have to worry about Joe insisting he was fine and trying to overdo it. Fenton had approved of the idea and immediately made all the arrangements. Recalling the look on Joe's face when they pulled up to the gates, he decided it was well worth the favors he called in to make it happen.

"This was a wonderful idea. Thank you for making it happen," Laura said, looking out over the gardens.

"It was all Frank's idea. I just pulled the right strings, that's all." Taking his wife's hand, Fenton turned slightly to face her. "Laura, I know everything turned out all right and Joe will be fine but I…I need to apologize. You haven't brought it up once and you have no idea how much I appreciate that. But it doesn't change the fact that I was wrong. I should have listened to you. Looking back, I don't know what I was thinking. Joe could have…he might have…" He stopped, choking on the word.

Laura turned to look at her husband and smiled sadly. "You're right. You should have listened to me. You and Frank both. But then again, I knew I was right and I should have stood my ground. I should have absolutely insisted Joe be brought to a hospital _immediately_. I shouldn't have taken no for an answer."

Reaching out she cupped a hand to her husband's cheek seeing the guilt in his eyes that she knew would linger for a very long time.

"Fenton, you are a wonderful father. We have two incredible children to prove that. I know how proud you are to be working with them side by side. But you have to remember they are your sons _first_ and your partners second. There are times you need to react a little more like a father and a little less like the world's best private investigator. This was one of those times."

"Thank you," Fenton said with quiet relief, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing it gently.

"You're welcome." She kissed him on the cheek. "But don't ever cross me again where the welfare of one of my children is concerned. You'll lose."

"And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Laura rested her head on his shoulder and they gazed out at the sun setting over the gardens in quiet contentment.

oooOOOooo

"YES!! I win _again_!" Joe shouted, pumping a fist in the air triumphantly and immediately regretting it. "Oww…" he moaned pitifully, clutching at his side.

"Serves you right for being so modest," Frank laughed at his brother.

Joe was seated in a cushy, leather recliner with a tray table to one side laden with drinks and snacks that were replenished without fail by Laura and Vanessa. Several game cartridges and controls were perilously close to the edge of the table and a few had spilled over into his lap. For the past few hours, he had systematically beaten Frank at almost every game they'd played, although a few times Joe had suspected that Frank let him win.

Recalling the strange dream he'd had while napping earlier in the day, Joe was determined to find out if he was actually remembering something or if it was indeed just a dream; the same dream he'd remembered while talking with Vanessa in the hospital, only this time the voice in the dream sounded suspiciously like Frank.

"Can I ask you something?" Joe asked as nonchalantly as possible.

"Sure."

"When I was in the emergency room, did you come in and sit with me at all?" Joe watched his brother carefully and thought he detected just the tiniest hint of a smile.

"Your doctor forbid anyone from seeing you," Frank replied.

"That's not what I asked." Joe narrowed his eyes, wincing slightly when his bruised right eye protested.

"I know." Frank smiled that infuriating smile Joe hated. The smile he used when he wanted to say _'I'm-not-telling-you-everything-and-I-don't-intend-to-so-don't ask.'_

"Well…" Joe pressed him, wanting a straight answer.

"Well what? You're the rule breaker in the family, not me. I like rules, remember?" Frank's smile growing even bigger at Joe's obvious frustration with him.

"You're not gonna tell me, are you? You're going to let me wonder about it for the rest of my life. Let me worry if you were really there or if I'm slowly losing my mind," Joe said dramatically, making a last ditch sympathy effort that fell on deaf ears.

"You lost your mind a long time ago. And I just told you all you're going to get from me." Frank stared at the television screen trying hard not to laugh.

"Fine," Joe huffed. "But I know what I heard," he muttered under his breath, causing Frank's unruffled demeanor to crack as he laughed out loud.

"What's so funny?" Laura asked coming into the room to check on Joe.

"Frank's messing with my head," Joe complained to his mother. "I think he needs a time out."

"Well, if I send him to his room he'll have to drive all the way back to Bayport to get there. Somehow, I think the punishment will have lost its "oomph" by then. Why don't you two just call a truce instead," Laura suggested, ruffling Joe's hair, the only person he allowed to get away with it. She laughed as Joe rolled his eyes in reply. "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. Frank, can you help your brother out of that chair so he can wash up and get to the table before the food gets cold."

"Sure, Mom." Frank stood up. "We'll be there in a few minutes."

"I know you were there," Joe mumbled as Frank helped him carefully get out of the chair and into a standing position.

"Sure I was," Frank humored him, staying close to his brother in case Joe needed any help.

"You can't fool me."

"Of course not."

Standing in the hall out of sight, Fenton and Laura watched their sons banter back and forth, as Frank helped Joe negotiate the stairs up to the bathroom, grateful their family was happy and relatively healthy once again.

oooOOOooo

Later that evening, Frank watched as Laura came into the viewing room carrying yet another snack for Joe and placed it on the table next to him. Seated on the other side of the chair in extremely close proximity was Vanessa. She alternately rubbed Joe's back affectionately or ran her fingers through his hair, periodically whispering in his ear and bestowing him with a seemingly endless supply of kisses. As Laura picked up Joe's glass and started back towards the kitchen to refill it, Frank nudged his father jerking his head towards Joe.

"They're waiting on him hand and foot. As if he isn't spoiled enough all ready," he commented wryly. Walking behind the couch, Laura gave him a light smack on the back of the head.

"And who's the biggest offender of all where that's concerned?" she said reminding Frank that he was notorious for giving in to Joe's every whim.

Once she returned with fresh drinks and snacks for all, Laura sat down next to her husband as Callie picked up what had been the main topic of conversation at dinner.

"I still can't believe you haven't picked a date for the wedding yet." She looked at Vanessa in disbelief.

"I've picked several dates. I'm just waiting for him to get back to me," Vanessa replied eyeing Joe.

"I don't know. It's been so long now I figured we could just be terminally engaged," Joe teased her.

"Forget it, pal." Vanessa waved her diamond ring in front of his face. "You're mine now and I intend to make it legal no matter how long it takes! Besides, you promised me a honeymoon on a deserted tropical island, remember?"

"And I intend to keep it." Joe pulled her towards him and sealed it with a kiss.

"Well, I hate to break it to you, little brother, but before you can go on a honeymoon, you have to get married. And before you can get married you have to pick a date," Frank said.

"Oh, all right." Joe pretended to sigh heavily. "What are those dates again?" He listened as Vanessa rattled off a string of dates she had chosen and committed to memory. Joe leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a moment, as if deep in thought.

"September 24th," he finally announced, opening his eyes and looking around. "See, all this wedding planning stuff isn't nearly as complicated as you people make it out to be."

As the laughter died down, Frank glanced at the television screen and saw the news was just beginning. He pointed excitedly at the screen, which displayed a large photograph of Johann Jarrell. "Dad, turn it up!"

Silence descended as everyone gave their undivided attention to the lead story of the night. As the news anchor recapped the trial of the largest terrorist ring ever uncovered on U.S. soil, he announced that after adding up the sentences from every charge that had been lodged against them, all those convicted would be serving anywhere from fifty to one hundred years in prison with no chance of parole.

"Thanks to the undercover work and flawless testimony of Bayport's own Frank and Joe Hardy, this reign of terror is over," the announcer finished with a broad smile.

With a smile of his own, Joe looked at his older brother and winked. "The Dynamic Duo strikes again!"

THE END


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